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Behind me, Salvatore is rock-hard. I don’t know how he can bear it, if his desire is anything like I feel right now. If he needs like I do in this moment. I don’t know how he can stand to make me come like this, instead of tossing me back onto the floor and fucking me.
The thought makes me moan, and Salvatore lets out a low groan, his hips shifting slightly, as if his control is fraying, too.
“Can you take a third finger, wife?” he murmurs in my ear. “Will you learn your lesson then, and come on my hand?”
I nod helplessly, desperate. I watch, trembling with tense need, as he slides a third finger to join the other two, stretching me lewdly. I gasp as I see him start to thrust those three fingers; my pussy opened wide, his other finger rolling over my clit. It presses down, rubbing, and Salvatore nips at my ear.
“Come for me, Gia,” he groans. “Take your punishment, little wife. Let me teach you a lesson. I’m telling you to come. Come for me?—”
His voice reverberates in my ear, the words flowing over me, and then they suddenly stop as I tighten, my entire body going tense as my hips buck upwards, and I cry out. I start to let my head fall back, but he uses his shoulder to stop me, forcing me to watch as he buries all three fingers in my stretched pussy up to the knuckles at the base of his hand, two fingers of his other rubbing my clit wildly. I watch as his hand glistens with arousal, wetting him to the wrist as it spills out of me, my clit slick and swollen, my pussy visibly throbbing as I come hard on his hand. I moan, the sound raising to a shriek as he keeps fingering me, keeps rubbing, his hips hard against my ass as I feel his cock throb against my spine, and I feel sure he’s going to come too, that he’s going to lose control and come in his boxers while he fucks me with his hand. The thought sends another spasm of pleasure through me, and I whine and twist on his fingers, wanting more. I want his cock. I want to be fucked, want?—
Salvatore pulls his hands away, both of them on my knees as he holds my legs open as far as they’ll go. “Look at yourself,” he snarls in my ear, and I hear anger tangled with lust in his voice. “Look at that wet pussy. You’d come again for me right now if I fucked you. If I took that little clit in my mouth and sucked.” His teeth graze against my ear, biting briefly, and I feel him shudder against my back. “Don’t fucking act like I’m forcing you, Gia,” he growls, and he reaches down, swiping two fingers through my pussy and making me cry out at the brief contact with my oversensitive clit. He presses them to my lips, and when I try to turn my head away, he spreads the wetness over my mouth. “You want to be fucked. And you can tell yourself that you don’t want it to be me, but you’re lying.”
His hand presses against the flat of my belly, holding me against him for a brief second. His cock throbs, and I realize dimly that he’s still hard, that he hasn’t come yet. And then I feel him shudder again, and he pulls away from me, pushing himself to his feet.
I half topple onto the mat, my body still faintly pulsing with the aftershocks of my orgasm, pleasure making me feel soft and vulnerable. I watch him stride towards the door, not looking back, leaving me there tangled in my clothing.
He slams the door behind himself, and then he’s gone.
Salvatore
I have to get out of here. I have to get away from her.
The thought beats in my heat in time with my elevated heartbeat as I slam the door of the exercise room, striding down the hall to my study. I yank open the door, bolting inside and shutting it hard behind me, locking it as I lean back.
I try to catch my breath, to steady my thoughts, but I can’t. I can feel her heat on my fingers, breathe in her scent still. Wet and soft and tight, so fucking perfect, and she’s mine. My wife. Mine to fuck whenever I please. Mine to take, to fill her with my cum, again and again, until she’s pregnant with my child. Until?—
My cock throbs, my balls tight to the point of pain. I need to come. And if I stayed in that room another moment, it was going to be inside of her.
I hadn’t meant for it to go so far. Only to?—
Only to what, Salvatore? The words are mocking, in my head. To teach her a lesson, by fingering her in front of a mirror? What lesson was that supposed to be, exactly? What kind of punishment is making her come so hard all over your hand that she drenched you with it?
All I’d been able to think, at that moment, was how angry she made me. How furious I was that she acted like I was assaulting her every time I touched her, like she didn’t get wet for me last night, like she didn’t moan and whimper when I let her feel what it was like to have someone pleasure her.
Like she didn’t all but beg me to stay and finish consummating the marriage. To take her virginity. And now she wants to act like a kidnapped bride.
I hadn’t grasped, until now, just how fucking difficult this marriage is going to be. How hard it’s going to be to manage any kind of peace between us. How impossible it feels to control my desire around her. I thought I wouldn’t want her, but I do, terribly. I want her with a desire that’s rapidly approaching an uncontrollable intensity, and I don’t know what to fucking do about it.
Neither my own guilt, nor her infuriating brattiness seems to affect it. If anything, it only seems to make me want her more.
I fumble roughly with my zipper, my hand wrapped around my cock before it’s even entirely free. I lift my other hand to my mouth, breathing in her scent, licking the taste of her off of my fingers as I start to stroke. I wanted to eat her pussy, to spread her open and lick her until she came all over my mouth, but I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I would have fucked her there, sweaty and disheveled, in front of that mirror, and she was right when she’d said I shouldn’t finish the job of taking her virginity there.
But god, afterward?—
My mind fills with images of her just the way she was as I fingered her, only now she’s in my lap, naked and spread open, her back to my chest, kneeling on either side of my thighs as I hold her against me and sit her down on my cock. As I make her watch while I fuck her, my cock splitting her open, making her mine. My arm around her waist, sliding her up and down, one hand teasing her clit until she comes for me, drenches me, and admits that she wants this as badly as I do. Until her only thought is of me, and not the Bratva animal that thought he could have her.
Possessiveness fills me, a victorious lust at the idea that what they thought they could have is mine now instead. My breath comes in short, hard pants, my hand gripping my cock hard as I stroke it feverishly, imagining my hand on Gia’s hips, her throat, holding her in place as I surge inside of her and fill her with my cum.
“Fuck!” I snarl between gritted teeth as my hand stutters along my length, my cock throbbing as the orgasm hits me, my knees nearly buckling with the force of it. I have just enough time to cup my hand over the tip, the heat spurting against my palm as I shudder with the wracking spasms of pleasure.
Pleasure that would be a thousand times better with her.
I suck in a deep, shaky breath, as I come back to myself. Once again, guilt settles over me, because I’ve lost control of my desires, my imagination. I’ve pleasured myself while thinking about things I shouldn’t. And unless I manage to control myself, this is only going to get worse.
Or she’ll settle in, and get bored of taunting me, and we’ll find a routine. That’s my hope—that Gia will stop acting out once she comes to terms with what has happened, and we’ll learn to live in peace together. But twenty-four hours in, I’m no longer so certain that’s a possibility.
Letting out a sharp breath, I go to my desk to find tissues to clean up, tucking myself away. Sharing a room with Gia presents another challenge—I don’t want to face her right now, but I also need to change clothes for dinner myself. I open the door to my study, glancing out into the hall.
