Page 75 of The Red Queen

She salivated as his large, veiny cock sprang free. It was thick, bigger than the size of her fist and long enough to hit the back of her throat when he pushed her face down while thrusting up into her waiting mouth. She gagged, then, gripping him around the base, swallowed him as deep as she could.

“Fuck!” he shouted, tipping his head back against the mat as he pushed his hips up.

Desi licked and sucked, nibbled and teased until his grip on her hair threatened to pull it out by the roots. When he couldn’t take any more, he shoved himself deeper and held her as he fucked himself. She was helpless against the onslaught of his thrusts, but his loss of control was so damn sexy she slid a hand into her yoga pants and sank two fingers deep into her dripping pussy, riding herself as he took his pleasure from her mouth.

“Motherfucker,” he yelled, “I’m coming!”

Desi moaned an enthusiastic ‘yes!’ around his cock, now slippery with her saliva as he jerked himself in her mouth, taking complete control.

Hot seed spurted into her throat, and she choked, then swallowed, licking him until he was finished.

She would have finished herself, but he dragged her hands from her pants, ignoring her protest.

He sucked her fingers, licking the juices clean before tipping her onto her back, gripping the elastic waistband of her pants and dragging them down her legs, leaving her exposed from the waist down.

He shoved her legs wide, forcing them over his shoulders, and attacked her pussy with his tongue and fingers, sending her hurtling into the stratosphere.

Desi flung her head back, screaming as she came.

Giovanni wrung another two orgasms from Desi before crawling over her, holding her head in his hands, and sliding into her, filling her. She gasped as sensations slammed through her, making her feel warm, tingly, and orgasmic all at the same time.

Together they climbed to the heights and fell over the edge, clinging to each other, their gazes locked, their breaths mingling as he dipped his head to kiss her.

As they lay on the mat recovering, Desi murmured, “You’ll have to get someone to clean up in here. I think we managed to get blood, sweat, spit and semen on this mat.”

He chuckled and lifted her until she was propped on top of him. His gaze was serious as he looked down at her.

“Do you feel better,amore?”

Some of her enjoyment dimmed as she thought of his reason for bringing her to the gym, to release some of her pent-up anger and murderous energy. She nodded, her chin bumping his chest. “Si, I feel better, though I’m still upset. You should have told me about wanting children when you brought me here. Maybe if I’d known, been prepared…”

He nodded, but answered with a noncommittal, “Maybe.”

It was the best she could hope for, and she felt like she’d made gains with him by showing him firsthand what she was capable of.

She licked her lips. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to have a normal life?” How could a woman like Desi and a man like Giovanni ever find happiness?

He brushed her lips with his thumb, his gaze serious on her face.

“We aren’t destined for normalcy,amore mio. We’re meant for the ultimate glory that can be seized in this world of power, riches, and privilege. But with such glory also comes pain.” His deep voice caressed her, and he slid his hand over her head, petting her, comforting her. “You were taken from your family, beaten, raped, and maimed.” He lifted her hand, kissing the stump of her missing finger. “But you have come back stronger, better, more able to face down your enemies. You are a queen among peasants, a goddess among mortals.”

Pleasure flamed to life at his words, and she grasped them greedily to her heart. “Call me your love again,” she whispered.

“Amore mio.” He slashed his mouth across hers, telling her with action that she was as much his love as his words professed.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Desi had two weeks to bask in the glow of her husband’s love and affection. Two weeks on top of the world, where she accepted her place at his side as his queen. Two weeks until her world fell apart under the self-sabotage she’d spent months trying to stomp into nothingness under Giovanni’s ofttimes gentle, but sometimes harsh, tutelage.

Desi hit the floor knees first, flinging the toilet lid up and violently vomiting up the few bites of eggs and toast she’d managed to get into her before the familiar signs of nausea crept up on her. Every day for a week now, her stomach would throw a fit and she’d have to run for the nearest washroom.

A knock on the door startled her. “Desi?”

She spat into the toilet and called out hoarsely, “Coming.”

She flushed and stood up on shaky legs, splashing cold water on her face. She dried it off and looked at herself. Pale, drawn, fatigued. There was no way Giovanni would believe she was fine.

She opened the door, plastering a smile across her face. “Good morning.”

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