Page 110 of Mafia Bride
He’s beautiful. He’s always been this beautiful, but to see him like this is a revelation all its own. Muscles stack on muscles and shape him into the most sensual human being I’ve ever seen.
The most intense part of him remains his eyes. They never stray from me, never lessen in heat, never soothe.
He is a predator. I am his prey.
I am his property, and he is my master.
He runs his hands across my body, like he’s trying to claim all of it, with all the gentleness of a flower. It’s sweet, it’s kind. Only, I want so much more than what he’s giving. I want to plead for more but I also don’t want to miss a second of our bodies uniting for the first time, all under his rules.
He lays me down on my back, spreads my legs, and runs his fingers straight to my center. I gasp as his fingers slowly pull me apart, exposing me fully. I try to cross my legs out of instinct, suddenly anxious.
Oh God. What if I am terrible at all of this? What if he realizes I have no idea what I’m doing and the sex is bad?
“Don’t make me tie you to the headboard.” Santino threatens, then adds, “On your first night.”
Every thought in my head disappears.
He kisses me from ankle to inner thigh. He makes a map of my body. He creates rivers and roads with his tongue. I am flying high on euphoria and nearly die each time the softness of his hair tickles the sensitive skin of my thighs.
When his tongue makes contact on my clit, the heavens open up and rain down over me. My life ceases and I ascend to the next level of living, sparkling and powerful.
His tongue coaxes against my swollen clit and I cry out, tears falling down my face, body seizing and contracting. Drowning in a new, foreign pleasure of an orgasm I didn’t give myself.
Santino laughs and I’m so embarrassed but also so rocked by the waves of the orgasm that I can only whisper out an apology. He only laughs again, but his face is so kind. So kind, so open. So…delighted.
“You will have many, many more tonight.”
I take back everything cruel I’ve ever said about this man. I didn’t mean it. I’ll never mean it again.
He kisses my face, my tits, my neck, until I’m on fire again. He dips his head back between my legs and licks my cunt clean as I come hard for a second delirious time.
When he kisses me, I taste myself on his lips and grow immediately wet again. But now I want more. I take his cock in my hand, feel the hardness, the thickness, the heat of blood engorging it as I stroke it. I have never in my life held anything so remarkable.
“Am I doing this right?”
“Yes.” His voice strains and he moans, guiding my hand with his own so I can feel how he likes it. Every sign of passion out of him only fuels my desire all the more.
I can make a man like Santino feel like this. Call me the fucking queen. I am a goddess.
“Do you want it inside you?”
I nod, but he stays silent. He wants words.
“Yes. Please.”
“Say it.”
“I want this inside me.” And I don’t even care if it fits. I am so wet I feel slippery in my own skin.
He lays his hand on my throat and whispers in my ear. “Open your legs for it.”
I can do nothing but obey.
“When it hurts, you keep your legs open.” He increases the pressure on my throat as if he’s trying to pin me to the space. “Or it’s going to hurt more.”
He presses himself above me and it creates a beautifully intimate space, just the two of us. He pauses at my opening and I take a deep breath, anxious for him and worried about the pain all at once.
Santino kisses me, deep and hard, as if he wants to distract me while he slowly pushes himself forward, then in the next instant, I’m ripped open. The blade of pain pushes against my ballooning pleasure, but does not pop it.
