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I’ve never seen or felt anything more fucking perfect in my life. She looks in pain, her chest is rising and falling like she’s breathless from it, and as her pussy adjusts to accommodate me she stares deep into my eyes with pure fucking determination. It lights a fire inside me because I was trying to be nice. I offered her the kindness of distraction, knowing that my size would cause her the discomfort she’s in. And this is the gratitude she shows in return.
I slowly withdraw, before slamming back into her hard, and unforgivingly, watching her try to hide how much it hurts. She’s chosen the wrong man to play games with, and when I do the same again and see the tears she’s trying to hold, streak over her cheek, I’m not prepared for the sting it puts inside my chest.
It still doesn’t stop me. For this marriage to work, she must know that when tested, I won’t just win, I will fucking excel.
Madalina has shown her distaste at the thought of having my child inside her, which makes the thought even moredesirable. I want her to carry a constant reminder of the fact she belongs to me, to have a part of me growing inside her, feasting on her energy and burdening her. I can already imagine how pretty she will look with a swollen belly, and how she will despise me for it.
“Does it hurt?” I ask her, gripping my fist into the sheets to relieve some of the tension, she probably wouldn’t believe it if I told her, but I am going easy on her.
“No.” She shakes her head defiantly, still determined not to break.
“I’m going to come so deep inside you,” I warn, continuing to stretch her throbbing pussy and cause that discomfort that she’s trying to deny me. She looks back at me like she wants to claw my face off, and I smile, deciding that I’m going to humiliate her a little more. Taking my hand I place it between us, sliding my fingers over her tense, pulsing clit, and despite the fact my cock is tearing at her insides it doesn’t take long for her to start to look a different kind of desperate.
I like that I have full control over her body. I’ve learned in the short time I’ve known her that her responses can be triggered so easily.
“Don’t!” She shakes her head at me, begging me not to make her come. The girl is beyond anyone I’ve ever encountered before. Sheer stubbornness and pride has her preferring my pain to my pleasure.
“Please, Dario.” I watch her bite her bottom lip, as her hands wrap around my biceps and squeezes. I can feel the control slipping away from her and see how desperately she tries to cling to it. Then it happens, her tight walls clamp around me and her mouth drops open. My wife looks even more exquisite as she comes with my cock rooted deep inside her, and the whimpers that come from her mouth and the way her nails dig into my skin have me nearing my limit too.
“That’s a good wife, you come for your husband,” I snigger as her legs start to shake. “Come all over your husband’s cock, Madalina, let me feel all that fucking pleasure you couldn’t hold back.” I lean over her, putting my mouth against her ear and gripping her hair as I feel myself start to brim. “Are you going to take my cum, like a good, little wife?” I manage, feeling my body start to tense.
“Here it fucking comes.” I grip her throat in the arch of my hand as I spill inside her with a final hard thrust that ensures I’m as deep as I can get, then I hold very fucking still.
Her whole body is a quivering wreck, her hate for me must be uncontainable, and yet her limbs anchor my body like I’m the only thing keeping her attached to the earth.
I count my breaths as I remain rooted inside her, even after the tension in her body starts to ease and her breathing goes back to normal.
Pulling back my head, I look at her and what I see doesn’t bring me the satisfaction it should. Her eyes are full of tears, tears that I have caused, and they put that sting back in my chest that doesn’t fucking belong there.
“Don’t fucking move,” I warn, my voice coming out a little more strained than I intended as I carefully drag myself away from her, and retreat to the bathroom.
I slam the door closed behind me and I look down at my still-hard cock. Seeing the blood streaks covering its shaft, I get that sick sense of accomplishment which reminds me that there's no good in me. I slide my hand over myself so her blood and a mixture of our pleasure stains my skin and I can’t help but wonder if she will always hate me for being the one who took her purity away from her.I guess hate is better than nothing.
I grip the basin in my hands and count to ten before setting to work. I clean my hands and then run some warm water.Reaching for a fresh, fluffy washcloth from beside the basin, I soak it in the water and then wring it out before grabbing a towel on my way back out to her.
Madalina remains lying in the bed just like I told her to, which comes as a pleasant surprise. She does look a little shocked when I position myself on the mattress beside her and gently slide the washcloth between her legs. There’s more blood on the bed sheet beneath her and the way she flinches as I clean her is enough to tell me that she’s sore.
“The worst is over. It will get easier.” I refuse to make eye contact with her as I soften my tone, I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel the need to offer her some assurance.
“How, when we still have a lifetime?” she whispers weakly. Again showing no gratitude for my kindness as she rolls onto her side and faces away from me. Her words hurt, and the fact I let them has me wanting to grab her shoulder, spin her back around and fuck her sore pussy till it bleeds for me again. But I don’t. Instead, I find enough calm to lean across her body and place a kiss on her cheek.
“Sleep well, wife,” I whisper cruelly, before leaving her to rest.
I’m almost happy to see the determined look on her face when she joins me at the breakfast table the next morning, and the slight wince she makes as she takes her seat gives me a twisted sense of accomplishment too.
“Morning.” I smile at her politely, calling my butler forward with a gesture of my hand. “How would you like your eggs?” I ask her on his behalf.
“Scrambled.” She turns her attention to him, avoiding me and keeping her spine straight.
“Did you sleep well?” I keep up my attempts to be polite, knowing that I’m making it so much harder for her to be rude.
“Better than expected,” she answers, without making eye contact.
“I’m pleased to hear it.” I nod a thank you to my housekeeper when she places the breakfast I ordered before Madalina came downstairs in front of me, and my wife waits until I have my mouth full of food before she speaks up again.
“I’m going to need a car and a driver,” she informs me, keeping her mouth straight as her eyes continue to deny me any attention.
“To take you where, darling?” I drop my knife and fork and wipe the corners of my mouth with my napkin.
