Marry the Don

Chapter 22

Clearly, I was wrong.

“Wrong,” He tsked, shaking his head, “You don’t even know me yet, Little One.” He pushed me backward by my throat until my legs bumped into the back of the chair and then he twisted me around and folded me over the tall back, keeping his hand around the back of my neck. My bare feet hung uselessly above the ground as fear raced through my body. “But if you insist, I’ll give you a reason to hate me.”

His hands gripped the thin lace of my panties, and he ripped them from my body with absolutely no effort at all. “No!” I kicked, trying to right myself over the back of the chair as his hand came down on my ass cheek in a thundering slap, stilling me in pure shock as my fear turned into adrenaline.

He pushed my thighs apart and then dipped his thick fingers between them, rubbing against my entrance and then down to my clit, pinching it almost painfully. “Tell me, Little One,” He chided with almost mirth to his evil voice, “Is this wetness, my come from last night dripping out of your tight cunt still or from your arousal right now?” He held me tighter as I squirmed harder while he pushed his fingers into my vagina, before growling and thrusting them in and out a few times. He pulled them free

and then I heard the telltale sound of him licking them clean above me and I groaned at how it made me feel to know he was tasting me again, even indirectly. He moaned theatrically, “Mmh, that’s all you baby. Sweet cream from inside of you coats your pussy, readying your body for my cock, doesn’t it.”

I hissed as his hand connected with my already burning ass cheek again and screamed in frustration into the cushion of the chair, angry at my useless body.

He chuckled and pushed his fingers in deep again, making obnoxious sounds with my wetness to further shame me as more gushed out of my traitorous body. Memories from last night assaulted me, reminding me how good it felt when he used his mouth to make me come before running the length of his cock through my lips over and over again to prepare me for his girth. The way he grunted and praised me while he fucked me and stole my virginity even as I tightened my legs around him and pulled myself closer with each thrust.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised me again, twisting his fingers inside of me. “I should be punishing you.”

“This is punishment!” I screamed.

“This is pleasure,” he countered instantly and then I stilled to stone when I heard him pull his zipper down.

“Don’t!”

“Don’t what, Wife?” He asked, before slapping the head of his cock against my upturned ass. “Don’t fuck my property?” He pressed the head of his cock against my wet entrance and pushed in. He growled as he pushed deeper, and I bit the cushion under my face to remain silent as the burn of his size and the tenderness from last night mixed with a weird pleasure from being filled with him. “Fuck, your cunt is so tight,” He let go of my neck and wrapped both hands around my waist. “Your body was made to take me, Arianna, it was built to be used like this.”

“Fuck you.” I hissed and he chuckled before slamming the rest of the way into me, forcing the air from my lungs. “Fuck!” I bit my lip and moaned, hating my traitorous body.

“If you insist.” He spanked my ass again and then started doing exactly that. He fucked me mercilessly, slapping his body against my thighs as he repeatedly forced his giant cock into me.

I was fucking warped in the head because, within a dozen punishing thrusts, I was exploding around him. I fought the sensations of my orgasm, biting the cushion and forcing myself to remain silent as I came but I didn’t fool him, not for a second.

“Good girl,” he growled, “That’s a good fucking girl, Little One. Milk me dry.” His dirty words were repulsive, yet arousing at the same time and I hated the effect he had on me. His thrusts sped up even more and then became so much deeper before he roared out loud, exploding inside of me. Last night he had been quiet when he came, but today, he didn’t care who heard, which only brought me more shame.

His cock jerked inside of me, and he grunted again before pulling out, leaving an empty feeling inside of me before backing away.

I slid from the chair onto the floor and brought my knees to my chest as I hung my head in shame, staring at his pristine black shoes and pants.

What the fuck was it about this man that turned me so rabid for his pleasure?

He panted above me, and I heard him put himself away and zip his pants back up, but I didn’t look up at him. I couldn’t because he’d see that I wasn’t as angry with him as I was with myself for letting him get me off. I was so stupid and pathetic.

“Take a bath, to ease your body,” he said finally, “I’ll have Molly bring you ice for your hand.” Then, he turned his back and walked out of the room without a backward glance like we hadn’t just had a giant game of tug of war, where I clearly lost.

I tried to tell myself that I hadn’t wanted it, and that’s why I had told him to stop. But I knew deep down, and so did he, that I only said stop to make myself feel better. I knew I shouldn’t have wanted it. But I did.

I wanted Nicolas Capasso more than I had ever wanted another man before in my life. He was my husband. And my villain.

And I was totally and utterly fucked over it.