Page 139 of Stalking Ginevra

My breath catches, and I blink away the tears. “What… what do you mean?”

Benito leans closer, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re going to let me breed you again and again until you’re pregnant.”

SIXTY-THREE

BENITO

Ginevra is too intelligent to lie when the envelope I brought in might contain evidence of her infidelity. She won’t buy my mercy with the truth.

I stare down at my wife, reveling in the way she trembles at my feet. Crocodile tears roll down her cheeks and drip on her pretty green kimono, but the sight of her misery no longer touches my heart.

This moment has been a long time coming. After watching her slither and sidestep my traps, she’s finally ready to submit. I love the way she kneels before me. My once untouchable goddess, now reduced to begging.

I force down a surge of triumph, even though I can already taste the victory, and ask, “Do you agree to my terms?”

Her lips quiver, and her gaze flickers with a thought that remains unvoiced. She knows better not to speak—knows I won’t tolerate another lie so soon after her admission of yet another infidelity.

“Answer me,” I demand, leaning closer, savoring how her breath catches.

She nods. “Yes, Benito. Anything.”

“Be specific,” I hiss.

“B-breed me,” she rasps, her cheeks flushing. “Get me pregnant.”

Heat surges to my cock, leaving me light-headed. She’s perfect like this—broken, at my mercy, her pride shattered and scattered at my feet.

But I’m not done. Not yet.

“Stand.”

Relief relaxes her pretty features. Exhaling, she offers me a hand but I step back. Five minutes of begging and weeping won’t erase her manipulation and deceit. Her hand falls back limp on her lap, and those vibrant gray eyes flicker with rejection.

I would smirk if my cock wasn’t in so much pain.

She wobbles to her feet, stumbling before she regains her balance. The kimono slips to the side to reveal a tantalizing peek of shoulder.

“Strip,” I command.

Breath quickening, she clutches its collar tighter around her neck. “Benito?”

My brows rise. “Changed your mind already?”

She shakes her head, lowers her lashes, and releases the fabric. Her petite fingers fumble with the knot at her waist before untangling the obi.

The silk kimono falls open, making my breath catch. Every urge screams at me to step forward, unwrap my traitorous bride, but I resist.

Ginevra must submit to me of her own free will.

She peels the kimono off her slender shoulders, exposing an expanse of creamy skin. I’ve seen her nude multiple times over the past weeks, both through the visor and on camera, but this is the first time she’s stripped for me and not Brisket.

The silk slides down her body, revealing breasts tipped with pale, pink nipples I long to caress, a slender waist, a gently curved belly, and a tiny patch of auburn pubes.

Ginevra stares up at me, studying my features for a reaction. I’ve called her beautiful every day since she was eight and that level of simping only got me rejected. I meet her gaze with the only expression she deserves—my indifference.

“Crawl to the rug,” I growl.

Her eyes widen, and red splotches of shames spread down her throat and over those luscious breasts. She hesitates for several seconds as if she can’t believe I could be so demeaning, but I square my shoulders, letting her know there’s no room for argument.

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