This is so much to take in. I've only ever thought of having children as something that might happen in the future. I've never factored in the possibility of raising them in a loveless marriage to a mob boss.
As the threat of a headache subsides, I find myself wishing it wouldn't. Losing all sense of time and place would be useful right now, but migraines are a rare occurrence for me and I can't summon them at will.
"So you would want to…." There's no way I can ask him outright about what he'd expect in a physical sense.
"You're an attractive woman, Violetta. Fucking you won't be a hardship."
"And they say romance is dead," I huff. Damiano's lips twitch. "So what would I get out of this marriage?"
"Protection. Influence. Access to my money."
My jaw clenches. "I'm not a whore."
Damiano moves dangerously close. Heat radiates from his body. I feel it even through my pajamas and it makes my pulse race.
"You'll belong to me." He bends to whisper in my ear. "And I think you'll like it. Just think how you'll feel with my dick buried deep…"
Enraged, I draw my arm back and slap him hard across the face. The sound of my palm connecting with his cheek reverberates around the room, shocking me to the core.
As the horror of what I've done seeps into my bones, I hold my hands up placatingly. His expression is eerily still.
"Damiano, I…."
His jaw tightens. For a moment, he seems frozen. His eyes narrow in thought. Then he grabs my arms, spins me around, and shoves me face-down onto the mattress. I cry out as he spanks my ass hard. He does it again and again, my thin cotton pajama shorts offering no protection from the sharp sting of his palm.
He keeps going, making me writhe on the bed in a mix of pain and something I'd rather not confront, something that throws me off balance.
Eventually, tears run down my face and I can't take it anymore.
"Stop, Damiano, please," I wail.
I sense his hesitation. Glancing over my shoulder, I see his arm is drawn back, poised to deliver another blow. He doesn't. Instead, he pulls me to my feet and turns me to face him. I swipe furiously at my cheeks to get rid of the tears.
"Never raise your hand to me again." There's no heat in his voice.
"I won't." My lip wobbles and I take a breath to steady myself. "I'm sorry I hit you."
"You will be. Get on your knees."
There's no mistaking his intent as he unties the towel from around his waist and drops it to the floor. I step back, startled by my first glimpse of him.
Different emotions fight for dominance as I stare at him, unable to look away. I shouldn't want this man, especially not after what he just did to me, but so help me, I do. Every rational thought tells me to walk out the door. I don’t.
Internal conflict rages, then desire wins, I hesitate a moment longer, then slowly sink to my knees, hoping if I please him I'll get something in return.
His cock nudges my lips and I open wide for him. I didn't expect him to be gentle but it's still startling when he thrusts sofar he hits the back of my throat. I choke, then quickly get myself under control.
Reaching up, I grip his ass then begin to bob my head back and forth, letting his rigid length glide over my tongue. He smells of citrus after his shower. It's invigorating. I pull back and dip my tongue into the slit at the head of his cock. Damiano groans.
"Don't tease,dolcezza." It's as close to a plea as I'll ever hear from this man.
I draw him into my mouth again and suck hard. He moans as if in agony but he can take it. When I slide a hand around to cup his balls, squeezing lightly, he hisses and withdraws.
For a moment I think I hurt him, but when he grabs my wrists and hauls me to my feet, the burning lust in his eyes tells me otherwise. He picks me up and tosses me on the bed.
I bounce so hard I think I'll keep going and land on the other side, but before I can fall off the bed he grabs my ankles and pulls me toward him.
Damiano strips off my pajama bottoms and panties. He holds them up, displaying the wet spot on the white cotton.
