Page 77 of Mafia Bride
“C-can you b-blame me?” I stammer. “I mean, like—”
He throws me on the bed face-first, holding my wrists together behind my back with one powerful hand. When I try to wriggle away, he pins his weight on me, growling in my ear.
“Stay still and take your punishment.”
My God, he’s going to rape me. I scream, begging desperately for help, but he doesn’t even try to shush me.
Instead, he spanks my ass so hard it hurts. My scream turns into a gasp.
“You are mine.” With every word, he spanks me harder, and the thin fabric of my nightgown does little to soften the sting as he strikes one cheek, then the other. “You are my property.”
He yanks up the nightgown, exposing the underwear. I am fully humiliated and wildly aroused as he starts again, and without the nightgown, the blows are newly painful.
“You will behave like you are mine.” He finds fresh skin in the back of my thighs, smacking exposed skin, and torments my increasingly raw cheeks.
“Ow!” I kick and wiggle, but he holds me down. “It hurts!”
“You do as I say. And you do not…” He pulls my waistband down to my thighs, exposing my ass. He’s panting with not just effort, but his own desire, laying his hand on my hot skin before he hits it again. God, it hurts so much and I never want him to stop. “...you do not run. You don’t even turn your face from me.”
My ass is ravaged, but he doesn’t stop, and between the searing pain, a fleshy slice of arousal beckons beneath his eyes, begging for satisfaction.
“How was I supposed to know?” I manage between gasps. I’m still not going to cry in front of him but I am so degraded I can barely hold back.
Santino smacks my ass so hard I yelp. “Know what?”
“That some gang of goons would try to stuff me in the back seat of a car. You never told me. You never told me anything.”
“Now you know.” He spanks me and clutches the raw skin. I howl in pain, then he slaps the place where it hurts. “It will eat me alive if something happens to you.” Again, he slaps me. “I’ll go to the ends of the earth to save you.” Again. “I’ll commit murder before another man hurts you.” I can’t even hear my shrieks past the ringing in my ears.
He spanks me like a doll until I’m limp.
“It hurts,” I sob.
I don’t tell him to stop. I could beg for succor, but I want him to do whatever he wants with me. I want him to rip away my resistance and take my submission.
“Who owns you?” His voice rumbles and crashes around me.
“You do.” I gasp.
“Say the whole thing.” He smacks my ass again.
There is no question. “You own me.”
He runs his fingertips over my raw ass, and God it hurts and damn it feels so good. I want that hand between my legs, and then I realize he must be able to see how wet I am in this humiliating state.
What does that mean to him? To me? Am I his whore now? His little slut fucktoy?
His fingertips brush my seam. Now he definitely knows how wet I am.
“You want me to fuck you? You want me to take what I’m entitled to?”
I do. My body screams for it. My center wants his fingers to take me to places I’ve never been, not in my wildest dreams.
But I cannot give myself to this man. Not fully. He cannot know he has me, no matter what he makes me say.
I swallow hard. “No.”
He’s silent. Then, “I choose not to, then. For now.”
