Last night

I peeled my eyes open as I rolled around. The bed was too warm, and the sheets stuck to my skin. A loud groan eascaped my lips. I felt completely exhausted, even if I had just woken up. My eyes lingered to my side where Vito laid peacefully, shirtless with black pants. Fucking hell. His abs and muscles gave him a sculptured look. I laid back down, watching him, not in a creepy-stalker-way, but in more of a maybe-he's-not-so-bad-way.

I hardly remembered a single thing that had happened the previous night. I knew for a fact I had probably irritated the shit out of him, but that's okay. It was his fault I had that much to drink anyway.

I pulled the duvet off me, getting up, but stopped in horror when I realized that I was naked. I still had my panties on, but who knew what the testa di cazzo (dickhead) had done to me? I gasped as I immediately covered my body, looking back at Vito.

The son of a bitch fucking raped me.

I didn't feel any pain, however, aside from a slight headache which