He yanked her demandingly, and she looked to the guards who watched closely but when seeing her scared eyes one stepped in immediately.
"Please let go of her, Mr. Daryl," he stated with a stoic expression, grabbing the arm that had her own. His grip got harder, causing her to whimper and try to remove herself from his grip but he had her in a bruising hold.
"Get your hands off me!" He yelled, slurring his words some, and raising his fist to hit the man but Ophelia got caught in the middle.
His fist collided with her cheek harshly, and she cried out and fell to the floor.
By this time three or four guards had gathered and took the man into their hold.
A maid rushed to Ophelia, but suddenly a door from upstairs busted open at the ruckus.
"What the hell is going on?" Dante stepped down the stairs quickly, a few men following suit. His eyes locked on Ophelia's fallen body and quickly rushed to her, gently removing the hand that held her cheek and seeing the red spot with a forming bruise.
He stood up slowly, and Ophelia noticed a certain tint in his eyes.
One she had never seen before.
"Did you lay your hand upon her?" He asked calmly, scarily calm. No anger to be found in the likes of his tone.
Daryl looked up at him with an angry expression, grounding his teeth at the man.
Dante suddenly grabbed him by his jaw in a crushing grip, causing the man to groan in pain but he didn't relent his anger.
Dante stared down at the man without a lick of emotion, just staring, reading.
"Porta casa nel seminterrato," Dante commanded in his mother tongue, his Italian accent thick and demanding. [Take him to the basement].
He helped Ophelia to her feet, holding the side of her head as they walked up the stairs.
"All of you, out," he said without even a head turning their way.
He sat her down on the edge of the bed once getting into their bedroom, as she sniffled and shook. Her body trembled from the events that just unfolded, still in shock of what all just happened.
"Shh," he kneeled down, taking the ice pack wrapped in a rag that a maid had brought up and setting it gently to her cheek which she winced. "It's okay, baby," he whispered, peering up at her tear-filled eyes which she closed and continued to tremble and cry.
"I-I didn't even do anything," she sobbed, covering her mouth quickly.
"I told you these are dangerous men. But this wasn't your fault," he caressed her hair, kissing her hand and then returning to icing her face.
He wiped her tears from her face, being careful of her cheek.
But she didn't stop crying, choking up some as her hands trembled at her chest.
"I-Im sorry," she choked, "I-I was just out late and-and—"
"This is not your fault, 'Lia," he cooed, standing and bringing her to his chest where she cried, clenching his shirt in her fists.
He got her to change to calm her down, telling her to take her shower in the morning and right now focus on going to bed and getting plenty of rest.
She was quick to get changed and rush back to his embrace, where he got her into bed.
"How was your day with dress shopping?" He changed the subject, watching as her eyes lit up a little, but tears still continued to well up and she hiccuped every other word.
"I-I found a dress," her fingers twisted around each other as she looked into his ocean of silver eyes.
"Do you like it?"
"Oh yes, very much so…i-i've never seen a dress so pretty and…elegant," she smiled some but winced.
"I'm glad," he helped her into bed and under the covers.
____________She slept cuddled up under his arm the entirety of the night, barely moving an inch but Dante wasn't complaining. He liked the thought of him as her security.
He held her tight, staring down at her as she was fast asleep with slightly parted lips, soft breaths and fisted hands across his naked torso.
He turned to his side to face her, bringing her body up close to him and beginning to leisurely place kisses along her jaw line, moving down to her throat.
Her hands clench on his back, whimpering at the little pecks given as she begins to awaken.
He moved all the strands of her curls away from her shoulder and began to kiss there as well, feeling her shudders.
He looked back to her, their eyes meeting before she looked away shyly.
He stroked her blushed cheeks, feeling the heat radiating from them as he leaned down to kiss them.
He raised her hands to his face and kissed every little finger of hers, lingering on her engagement finger which had the ring currently removed.
"Mine, mine, mine," he said quietly, almost a whisper beneath his breath between every little kiss.
She looked up, and his eyes landed on the plumpness of her lips settled into a pout, and couldn't help but take them for his own. Laying his lips on hers, her heart swelled with excitement, and she could barely feel her legs.
She smiled, grabbing him to pull him towards her so every inch of them touched.
Their lips moved slowly, passionately with every move of their bodies, hands delving through each other's hair and pulling each other close every second they were able to.
Her hands moved from his hair down his cheek, stroking along the stubble of it and smiling within their kiss.
He finally pulled back, giving her a chance to breathe as he did but watching as she pulled him back to capture his lips for another taste.
His hands grabbed her by her waist and pulled her on top of him, moving her hair from around her face and grabbing her head to kiss her fiercely.
"Tell me you're mine, baby," she blushed as she sat on top of him, burying her head into his neck while he stroked down her back.
"C'mon baby…tell me how you're mine, only mine," he said in a darker tone, stroking down her hair and hearing her whine.
"I'm yours…" she said shyly, quietly to where he could barely hear her as she mumbled into his chest.
He chuckled, bringing her up and kissing her harder than he ever had, hearing her whimper as she tried to keep up with him.
"Good girl," he licked his lips as he stared at her head in his hands. Her curls were a mess, eyes still sleepy.
He watched pink butterflies flutter along her cheeks, dropping off droplets of pink that stained her skin.
He petted her hair, laying a kiss on her head before rolling her back over and tucking her in. She clung to his side, wrapping him in her arms tightly with her head buried in his chest.
"My good girl."
YOU ARE READING
Eunoia
Roman d'amour𑁍 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐃𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𑁍 At age 18, Ophelia's father chooses a betrothed for Ophelia. resenting the idea at first, her mind changes when meeting the tattooed hunk. Dante Rosario is feared by all, but when meet...