Page 35 of The Sicilian Princess
Rose
Nick left me a trembling, sobbing mess. My backside was sore, and my clit was throbbing. I was going to rub an orgasm out, but not only would that be unsatisfying, I had this weird feeling that Nick would know. Then I would be punished even more. So, instead, I ran myself a bath. I hissed as I lowered myself into the tub. Once I got used to the burning, I relaxed against the tiles. I had a lot to think about.
Nick and his father said we were getting married, but what was the use if there was no love? I didn't want a marriage like my parents. I deserved more. It was finally dawning on me that I wasn't broken. There was nothing wrong with being disabled. I was beautiful and I deserved a man who looked at me like I was. Did Nick? I wasn't sure. I thought I had finally run from the mafia life. If I was going to be his wife, I needed to find my spine. I couldn't show weakness, and I damn sure wouldn't let Nick dominate me everywhere. That wasn't a life.
The door swung open, pulling me out of my musings. Nick stood naked in the doorway covered from head to toe in blood. I should have been terrified. Instead, my hussy little body throbbed in need. He'd left me wanting.
"I thought you'd be asleep by now, little thorn," he rasped.
I leaned forward to drain the tub. There was no way Nick would want Romano to touch even a single part of me.
"Someone left me all dirty, so I needed to clean up." I shot him a smirk, so he knew I wasn't angry with him. The smell of violence was in the air and I knew if I pushed him, he might hurt me by accident. I didn't want him to have any regrets, so I had to take the high road.
"I need to clean up as well." His voice was so low, I had to lean forward to hear him. I ran the shower and got out.
Just as I reached the door, Nick grabbed my upper arm. "Stay, little thorn."
I nodded my head and followed him into the shower. As the blood rinsed off his body down the drain, he started to speak. "Why don't you want to marry me?" He sounded surprisingly vulnerable.
I thought for a minute before I answered. If he was going to have an adult conversation with me, I couldn't give him bratty answers. "It's not that I don't. I understand why we need to. I just don't want to have a marriage like my mother and father, a dictatorship in which his word was law. I want a partnership, someone who sees me as his equal. Not disabled. Not broken. Not cattle,"
Nick shot me an intense look. He handed me the bar of soap and I started cleaning his body, my hands running down his muscular form. I might have spent more time than was warranted on his chest and abs.
"Do you even know what I see when I look at you, little thorn?" he rasped against my ear.
I shook my head no because we never really talked about things like that. We'd only had surface conversations.
"I see a beautiful woman who has had her wings clipped. I don't see you as broken or less than. Do you have a disorder that needs to be kept in check? Yes. Does that make you less desirable? No. I want you, little thorn. In my bed. In my life. Forever. Therefore, I want you to be my wife. Do you think if I didn't want you, I would allow my old man to tell me I had to, anyway? I'm not weak. I'm not a boy. I bow to no man."
Shivers ran down my spine. I felt myself growing wet from his speech. His eyes had enthralled me. "Would you bow to a woman?"
My bold words shocked even me, but I wasn't about to take them back. I thought Nick would leave the shower. Instead, he surprised me and dropped to his knees. They hit the floor with a loud thud. My breathing was coming in faster as he pulled me to his face.
"Ride me, my queen. My tongue is yours."
I could've come right on the spot, but Nick had other plans for me. With one hand on my hip while the other parted my folds, he slipped his tongue inside me gently. He teased around my clit and made me cry out when he bit down gently. Next, he swung one leg over his shoulder, and my hands automatically went to his head. I massaged his scalp as he tongued me. He thrust, over and over, inside me as if his tongue was his cock. It wasn't enough. The elusive orgasm was right there in the background, but I wanted more. I needed more. Something was missing.
"More, more please," I cried, desperation lacing my words. I swiveled my hips over his face, but still, it wasn't enough.
Nick pulled away from me, leaving me whimpering in distress. He lifted his head and looked me straight in my eyes, his possessive gaze hitting me deep, letting the butterflies in my stomach fly erratically.
"I love you, my little thorn." He inserted his finger, and I was lost. Drowning in my pleasure, I almost didn't hear what Nick was growling into my pussy. "Mine, mine, mine," he growled, getting more aggressive. "Give me more. I want you to come on my tongue again."
I was already shaking my head no. I didn't have any more in me, but did Nick care? No, he didn't. He wanted me to come, and that was exactly what he set out to do. I fought, too sensitive to want to go again. I tugged on his hair, but he wouldn't let up. I was worried he wasn't even breathing down there. Finally, that feeling built again and I was able to let out a guttural scream.
"Yes, my fucking pussy. My little thorn. Forever," he shouted up at me. My head lolled back, and I lost all sense of time. The next time I woke up, Nick was draped over my body and we were in bed. I was so content, I smiled and drifted back off into a glorious sleep.
