I answer by reaching for his zipper.
“This isn’t going to be romantic, Isabella. It’s going to be quick, even rough. Your first time should have more care than I can give at this moment.”
“You won’t change my mind.”
His fingers find the hem of my dress, slowly gathering the material upward. I stand perfectly still, heart racing as his hands slide higher, brushing against the lace of my underwear.
"Are you certain?" he asks one final time.
"I've never been more certain of anything."
He hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric, pulling downward with excruciating slowness. I step out of my panties, feeling utterly exposed despite still wearing my dress.
“Lie down.”
I do as he says, my eyes watching as he undoes his belt and pants, shoving them down along with his briefs. He springs loose and for a moment, I second guess this decision. He is so long, so thick, and I can’t imagine him inside me without hurting me.
He lies over me, his fingers finding me again. “You’re wet, but you’re also trembling.”
"Not from fear."
He smirks as he guides himself to my entrance. “Liar.”
I brace my hands on his shoulders. Our eyes lock, and something in the air shifts. It’s still electric with desire, but there’s something else. A caring in his gaze I wouldn’t have expected from the fierce Don.
He presses against me, and I hold my breath as I anticipate how this will feel. Initial resistance gives way to a sharp pinch that makes me wince. Alessandro freezes, but I shake my head, determined to continue.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp.
“Fuck… ” He groans as he continues, his face contorted as if he’s fighting against himself.
“Do it… ”
He thrusts. The shock of it forces the air from my lungs. He stills, his breath harsh in my ear. “Breathe, Isabella… ”
I feel claimed in the most primal way. Not as property, but as a woman choosing her own path.
I suck in a breath, and the pain softens. He withdraws, and I’m afraid he’s stopping, but then he pushes in again. The pain lessens even more, transforming into a different sort of pressure. There’s a growing, insistent throbbing that demands movement. Instinctively, I rock against him, gasping at the sensation.
His hands tighten on my hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He pulls back then drives in again. It takes a few times, but soon, I’m moving with him in a rhythm that builds slowly.
"You feel—" he starts, but words seem to fail him.
In this moment, I've never felt more powerful, more alive.
Alessandro's breathing grows ragged. His hands grip my hips tighter, fingers pressing into my flesh. I watch, fascinated, as the composed, calculating Don struggles against his baser instincts.
He shifts, drives in, grinding against me. The movement ratchets up the coiling need building inside me.
His eyes flash, dark and dangerous. He slides his hand down my thigh, lifting it higher on his hip as he thrusts again. The movement drives him deeper.
“Oh!” I gasp as it pushes me closer and closer to what feels like an edge.
Something snaps. Alessandro's hips surge forward, stealing my breath. His movements grow urgent, powerful, each thrust sending jolts of electricity through my core. It feels like he’s lost himself. Lost control. All because of me.
I’m drunk on the power of knowing that this dangerous man is coming undone because of me.
"Look at me," he commands.
