Page 48 of The Mafia's Bride
It’s not a lot, but I force my cock into her mouth, her red lipstick staining my shaft with one pass. It smears onto her chin, marring that angelic porcelain skin into something dark and devious.
I don’t miss my chance, slamming into the tight, wet heat of her perfect mouth until I feel the back of her mouth. She sputters a heavenly song that I pray I’ll always hear.
Her nails cut into the flesh of my sensitive inner thighs, and I pump twice before my cock pops free, and she coughs, sucking down deep breaths.
“See? Your mouth can be used in such better ways, little menace.” I grab her chin, forcing my cock back between her lips. “Better ways than hissing at me like a wet cat.”
God, it feels so fucking good to be inside of her. The wetness, the warmth, those tiny whimpers as my cock deepens, shoving down her throat.
Wetness pools at the corner of her eyes, drool dripping from her mouth. She’s such a beautiful disaster for me.
My cock twitches and I pop out, letting her breathe. Her chest stutters, full breasts heaving with exertion. If I don’t control myself, I’ll explode before I’ve taught her a lesson.
She’s the only one to break my strong control.
Gripping her hair, I pull her to her feet, her confused, lustful glance making me smile.
I throw her onto the bed, quickly straddling her hips.
“You like being used, don’t you? Used like a fucktoy, being made to take me into that fucking amazing mouth,” I whisper, licking her earlobe. My cock is still free, angry, and throbbing at being denied release. “You want me to use you. Make you do unspeakable things. Blame me for all the unholy desires you feel, at what I’ll make you do.”
I hold the ball gag over her face, watching as her eyes widen in realization.
It’s a thick black leather strap, with a bright red ball held in the center. The same color as her lipstick that marks us now.
“What are you?—”
“Your words, aremine, Sloane.” I chastely kiss her cheek. “I own your body. I own your soul. And now I’ll own those ferocious words, that terrible bite because it’smine. I love your fight, but I want every part of you that I can get. Everything you are, ismine.”
I quickly secure the strap over her mouth. She puts up a valiant fight, arms thrashing out, legs flailing, but once the ball is lodged between those plump lips, she holds still.
“This is just another way to show you that I own you. That I’m not going anywhere, Sloane.” My words are edged in need and want. She looks so good bound for me.
I lift her shirt, seeing she isn’t wearing a bra. I make myself a promise to thank God at the altar tomorrow for this gift.
“Now I’m going to fuck these perfect breasts,” I say, rocking back on to my knees. I discard my jacket, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt. My eyes don’t leave her face, taking in those wide eyes. “And you’ll wear my cum for the rest of the day. I’m going to mark you, Sloane. Physically own you, because I need to keep you.”
She garbles something, her words stuck behind the thick rubber.
I laugh darkly at her attempt to flay me with her words. “See? Isn’t this better?”
It’s not ideal; I love her words. I want to hear her rage against me,see what she can throw at me. I want that burning fire to scorch me and take us both under.
The rage that contorts her face, that could level buildings, brightens the emotions of her doe eyes. They glow like freshly made emeralds, a vine of gold running the edges.
This is a show. A physical leash, a binding between us. I can give her the dark, depraved things she craves. I won’t leave her because of them, but embrace them.
I can be everything for her, everything she needs..
I spit into my hand, mixing her salvia and lipstick to lube my cock, grabbing her breasts, and I pitch forward without abandon.
She’s soft, willing, her body bowing with every thrust. Her hands tangle into my open pants, every thrust causing her to moan against the gag.
I’m not gentle as I fuck her. My body needs this release, and I need to see my cum marking her. I need to tie her to me in some physical form that surpasses the ring on her finger. With me staining her, she’ll never escape me. She’s tainted, by me.
It takes only a few minutes, her tits too soft and giving, that I cum all over her chest, splatters falling on to her chin and neck. A few spots drop into her hair and I smile, seeingmeimprinted on her. Like I crave to be.
Panting, I draw back, body leaning over her, arms braced above her head. She’s vibrating with need and fury, denied another orgasm. Another punishment to remind her of who I am. Whosheis tome. What I can give her—only me.
