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I feel his fist grip the fabric of my dress and drag it up my back, exposing my skin as his warm, wet tongue follows its trail up my spine and his teeth sink into my shoulder.
“You will learn that it is wrong to test me,” he warns, wrapping his strong arm under my body and fisting one of my tits in his palm.
“I wasn’t testing you. I was having a few drinks with a friend,” I inform him, trying not to find pleasure in the way he rolls my nipple between his fingers as he squeezes me.
“It is not safe for the wife of a DeMarco to go out drinking in bars.” He slides his hand up to grip my neck then uses it to drag my body up so my back rests against his chest.
“Well, I appreciate your concern.” I try to be clever as he pulls my dress up over my shoulders. It’s a struggle to hide my relief when his hand slides into the front of my panties and he starts to stroke the ache he’s put there.
“You don’t deserve any pleasure, Madalina,” he growls into my ear.
“So, why are you giving it to me?” I smart back at him, already feeling the sensation start to build inside me. The one that makes me crave his cock like a drug.
“You're right.” He quickly pulls away, forcing me onto all fours again and getting off the bed.
“I think three will be enough,” he tells me, and when Iglance over my shoulder and see the belt still in his hand I freeze.
“No, you can’t seriously think that?—”
“Ouch!” I feel the first sting when the leather thrashes against my ass cheek, and the way my clit still throbs from his touch puts a strange shiver over my body.
“Say it.” He rubs his palm over the red mark he’s made on my skin as if he’s soothing it.
“Say what?” I’m confused, not just by his behavior, but by the effect it has on me. My pussy is wet to the point of dripping.
“Tell me that you hate me.” His other hand slides around my hip and touches me where I need it. “Tell me you fucking hate me while I make you come.”
“I hate you.” I keep my neck stretched around so I can make sure he knows I mean it, and he smiles before dealing me another thrash of his belt.
“Youhateme, but youlovemy pain.” He laughs, flicking his finger over my sensitive flesh and making all the tension in my body unbearable.
“Look at you, so needy and desperate.” He shakes his head almost like he’s disappointed as he takes his hand away from me and starts walking toward the door, taking his belt with him.
“Wait!” I call after him, and I’m shocked at what comes out of my own mouth when I speak. “You said three.”
Dario turns around slowly looking equally as shocked as I am. My insides are pulsing, desperate for him to finish what he started and I detest myself for it.
I watch him frown in confusion and take a moment to think before he steps back toward the bed.
“Lie on your back,” he whispers, working his hand around the leather and then making it snap. I keep my eyes focused on his and do as he says. I don’t know what's come over me but suddenly I feel the need to give him what he needs. “Openyour legs, Madalina, show me my pussy.” Again, I give in to his demand, ignoring any humiliation as I spread my legs.
“Look at you, I can almost see that clit of yours pulsing.”
“I hate you,” I whisper, knowing that for some reason he likes to hear me say it.
I don’t have time to wonder what will come next, because the sting from the belt as it connects with my sensitive flesh is all too consuming, and the scream gets caught in my throat when it’s followed by something warm, wet, and soothing. Opening my eyes I look between my legs and see that Dario has dropped to his knees, his head is buried between my legs and his tongue is what’s soothing the sting he just caused.
This is far beyond anything else that's happened between us. It feels far too intimate like a line’s been crossed. His eyes remain locked on mine as he strokes me with his tongue, holding my thighs firm in his hands to keep them apart. I’m speechless as I watch him because the hate is missing from his eyes, instead, I see something different, something that could almost resemble affection.
“Pain tastes as good on you as it looks,” he pauses to tell me, before his mouth works some more magic and has me battling with my pride not to come.
Slowly he crawls his way up my body, leaving a void between my legs, until he pushes his slacks off his hips and lets his hard, heavy cock rest against my throbbing clit.
“Please.” I roll my hips against his trying to get some friction.
“Say it again.” He cups his hand under my jaw and holds me steady.
“I hate you,” I tell him, meaning every word because whatever he’s doing to me seems cruel and calculated.
