Page 92 of Mafia King
“You’re an animal,” I repeat, but this time, it’s not an insult.
From behind, he shoves my thong aside to split my most sensitive lips. I gasp at his touch and he murmurs to himself in Italian. His finger runs the length of my seam, rough like the rest of his touch, and I begin my slow, glorious death.
“How are you so wet?”
“Fuck me and find out.”
He smacks my ass. “That mouth.” He smacks it again. Hard. “Do not speak to me like that in my own home.”
“This isourhome,” I manage.
“You cook!”Smack. “You clean!”Smack.
My ass burns from his blows, and still I want more.
“You run the house.”Smack.“You talk to the other wives about who’s a whore.” His hand drops to my right nipple and pinches hard. I see stars behind my eyelids and my breath catches in my throat. I’m seconds from coming and there is nothing else in life I need more, right now, than this. “But you do not get into my business.”
“Gia’s my business!”
“Nothing!” His fingers work my nipples so hard the pain threatens to morph into an orgasm. “You hear me? Nothing of this again!”
I summon all my strength, open my eyes, and look over my shoulder. “Make me.”
He takes me under the chin and pulls my head back. He’s so tall and long that his torso covers me. “I’ll choke the back talk out of you,Forzetta, God help me, I will.”
“Fucking try.”
He lets go, but the pressure of his body pins me hard against the curved edges of the wood. I hear him unbuckle his belt.
“Tell me how bad I am.”
“You are so fucking bad.” His belt is out of the loops with awhick. “Why does torturing me bring you so much joy?”
“Because you’re a good man.”
“And you need to learn your place.”
“What are you going to do about it?” I give us both a last taste of defiance before complete surrender.
He wraps the belt around my neck and holds it closed while his other hand opens his pants to release his cock. I am a fool. I underestimate his ability to take me places I don’t think I want to go until I arrive.
“I’m going to stop you from talking.” He yanks me back by the belt. “You like that. Eh?”
“I love it.”
He pushes my legs open with his feet, holding them wide.
“Because you are a naughty fucking American girl.” In one thrust, he’s deep inside me, pulling me to him by the throat.
“I’m so bad.”
“Just take it.” Santino presses my hips down.
He doesn’t want it to be easy. God help me, he wants to destroy me and I want him to. I want him to take me to the edge more than he wants to go there.
“Hurt me,” I egg him on.
“I’m going to break you.” He smacks my ass and the sting is pure pleasure.
