“Let’s try for better than okay,” he grunts and slowly starts rocking his hips. I bite my lip to keep from screaming but, the more he moves, the more there's a strange sort of pleasure mixed with the discomfort.
“I know your first time won’t be ideal. And I’ve wanted you for so many nights,” he tells me gruffly as his hips start to move a little faster. He’s been holding back, I realize. I let my fingers sink into the soft, thick waves of his dark hair and focus on this indescribable feeling of being… taken. “You feel so good,mia moglie.So tight and only mine.”
“I’m not your wife,” I remind him.
He smirks in response and begins licking my nipples. Words lose their meaning, and pleasure starts to build.
But when he slams into me harder, chasing his release, I gasp and clutch his shoulders, smothering a cry. His hips freeze. “I’ll slow down,” he husks, his brow dotted with sweat.
“Just do it. Get it over with,” I whimper.
Again though, he reminds me I’m not the one in control. He slows down to a pace I can handle, paying attention to my breasts some more, stoking that sinfully good fire in my core. He sneaks his hand between us to rub my clit. And, as he promised, it’s his name I scream before it’s over.
18
Carlo
Breathless and beautiful, she comes apart for me, crying out my name. I can’t hold back any longer. Her pussy grips me too perfectly. My cock jerks deep inside of her, the completion overwhelming. Elation and lust thunders through me. Never has it ever been so…
Francesca swallows hard, distracting me from the thought, and tries to shrink beneath my weight, already erecting her walls when I’m still inside her. She’ll soon learn that won’t work with me. “Can you move?” she huffs, trying, and failing, to sound tough.
“How shall I move?” I tease, thrusting forward again. My cock may be softening, but it’s not soft. Her eyes widen in shock. “Oh, you thought one fuck equaled one night, didn’t you? Silly girl.” I can definitely go for Round Two, especially if she lets me eat her pussy again first.
But her chin trembles at the mere suggestion of doing more tonight. Goddammit, I can’t tease her if she’s going to cry.
“I’ll move,” I mutter, pulling back. Apparently, that’s not better because she tenses at once, her fingernails digging into my ass as her eyes flash with discomfort. “Bad?” She nods, and I regret that I’m causing her pain without meaning to. “I can pull out more slowly,” I suggest. Another nod.
The used condom gives me something to focus on besides that stunned uncertainty in her eyes, but the smear of pink covering it gives my possessive heart a twisted thrill.Mine, first. Mine, always.
“It's still erect,” she whispers as I tie the condom off, pitching it into the trash.
“It's eager for more but only from you.” What a thing for me to admit. Part of me hoped having her once could satisfy my desire for her. That’s not the case.
I gently press my hand against her abdomen. “Sit up for a moment.” She does without question, not realizing the portrait she’s painting for me. She may have avoided the big wedding that was being planned, but there are some traditions I can’t evade if I want to ensure no one questions her honor… or my true nature.
“Lie back down again,” I tell her once it’s done, leaning forward to kiss the satiny smooth skin of her shoulder. She tenses immediately. “Francesca?”
“I won’t go back on the deal. You can have me again. If you’ll just… please, give me a moment.” It’s obvious her throat is clogged with tears, thinking I’ll fuck her again.
“I’m a cruel son of a bitch,” I admit, allowing myself one final caress of her bare hip. “I want more than one fuck. I want a lifetime of nights where I’m buried in your pussy, but my sadistic side won’t come out around you.”
Her relief is apparent when I stand and soon her curiosity is, too. I stretch, secretly pleased by the way she’s checking me out and trying to hide the fact.
Slipping my underwear back on, I hold out my hand to her. “Come. A hot bath will help ease the soreness.” Her chin trembles again. Does she think this is some trick so I can fuck her in there? She’s getting tricked but not like that. “The bath is for you,” I clarify. She gives me a shaky smile and follows me into the bathroom.
Once the large soaking tub is filled to the brim with hot, lavender-scented water, I leave Francesca to relax. In the kitchen, I pull out a serving platter, loading it with fresh mozzarella, briny olives and prosciutto di parma among other delicacies.
Then I select a favorite wine from my collection, bold and red like her. It will make the sedative practically undetectable. My bride can’t slip off before I’ve had time to prepare everything.
“To recover you from your labors,” I say, stepping into the bathroom with the tray.
Her lips curl into a smile before she catches herself and frowns at me.So stubborn. “I’m taking a bath,” she states as if that’s meant to run me off.
“Yes, I know.” I take a seat on the tiled edge and pass her the wine glass.
“I should go after this,” she says, plucking an olive from the platter.
I shake my head, trailing my fingers through the scented water. “You’ll stay the night with me. Nothing else will happen except sleep, but one night is what you promised to avoid our wedding in two weeks. I want the whole night.”
