Chapter Seven
EMELIA
S ubmissively catering to Nico after he came into the room was something I desperately needed. It was unhinged and knowing he sat there and watched me like I was a prize he purchased, had me so wet and dripping, that I had to clean myself up before we got dressed to leave. What’s more, the sexy way he smoked that cigar, as if he was the highest bidder in the room, ominously watching his token prize bend at his will.
It was so degrading, and I enjoyed every damn minute. When I went to the bathroom to clean up, he watched me.
“Do not fucking come. Don’t you even touch that slutty clit. You don’t deserve to come until I am ready for you too.”
He watched me wet the cloth and clean the juices from my thighs. I was leaking at a rate I have never before today. From the degradation and the unknowing. Where is he taking us and what is he going to do to me?
He speeds in his Maserati, one hand on the wheel, the other kneading the thick, plush skin of my inner thigh. I wore a tennis skirt and shirt, not sure where we would end up, but knowing it wasn’t going to be on me for long. There is no doubt Nico is taking me to please me, but how far is he going to take it? I have yet to find out. There is classical music playing in the sleek all-black car. The sun is setting on the horizon and each mile feels like a thousand and I don’t know how much longer my body can hold off without coming.
“Are you going to take me to the club?” I shoot my shot. I need at least a breadcrumb.
“No, somewhere better.” The fact that he keeps his eyes on the road and not sparing me a glance, only adds to the intensity of each passing second.
“Fuck.” He groans, pinching my thigh and slapping it. I yelp.
“What?”
“I can still smell you; you’re so fucking needy for me. You are such a good whore for me.”
Fuck me. My nipples pucker and my core tightens. Nico looks at me and there is evil and pleasure molded into one.
“Can I suck your cock, please. If I don’t have some of you now, Nico, I will fall apart.”
“No. Phase one is only watching, Emelia.”
Shit. He is going to do it. We are going to roleplay this all out. But where if not the club, then—my thoughts stop as we pull up to the nicest hotel in Seattle, my husband’s hotel. We have been married for ten years and I haven’t come here yet. The occasion has never called for it, but this hotel has been in magazines all over the world, even in some movies. It is stunning.
“Here?”
“Yes. Here.” He climbs out, leaving the car running for valet.
Rounding the front, I watch my husband’s stealthy body move effortlessly in his power suit. Opening my door, he sticks in his hand, and I take it, stepping out. Okay, I’m in a tennis skirt and a basic V-neck, and my husband looks like he walked out of a GQ ad. Suddenly I’m highly aware of how unprepared and underdressed I am.
“I wish you would have told me to dress nicer, I look out of place.” I mess with my outfit, and he ceases me. Grabbing my hands he firmly plants them in his and against his chest. Valet unloads our bags.
“Keys are in the car.” The young man leaves us.
“In a matter of an hour the only thing that will make you out of place is the unholy fucking things I am going to do to your ass, tits, pussy, and hell when I fuck your face.” He pauses, trying to calm his growing erection I feel against my stomach. “My cock is so fucking hard and ready to treat you like its own fucking cum slut.”
My smile leaves and I gulp. I’m not new to his degradation, but I am never going to get used to it. Especially on nights like this. Without another word, he takes my hand, and I follow behind him.
An employee takes our bags and disappears, I am sure he knows where to take them. We enter the all-white lobby with black and gold accents. It smells familiar. Oddly familiar. Too familiar. It takes me a moment and I keep taking in inhales.
“Cherries and honeysuckle. It’s a custom scent I had made. Now our guests get to know what fucking heaven smells like.” My two scents I always mix. My heart flutters rapidly in my chest; it could nearly be mistaken for cardiac arrest.
“ Il mio re ,” I coo, squeezing his hand tighter in mine.
“You mean more to me than breathing, remember that tonight, Emelia. Remember that I respect and love you beyond measure in this world. Because tonight,” he pauses, leaning down and putting his lips to my ear. “I am going to fuck you like you are just a toy and meant for being fucked like you’re nothing.” I gulp. We have straddled lines like this before. Nico will degrade me, but quickly praise me. We never took it to a place where he and I forgot we’re lovers and partners first.
You get what you ask for, Emelia.
“Mr. and Mrs. Valiente, welcome in, it is nice to have you both here together. We have your suite prepared, bags are already on their way up. I am here if you need anything.” The gentleman who approaches us reminds me a lot of Giulio. He is very inviting and seems to be highly aware of my husband and how to avoid pushing hot buttons. I read his name tag.
“Mr. Coleman, I’m Emelia, it is wonderful to meet you.” This is a nice break from what Nico and I are doing. Can you combust into thin air if there is too much lust? Is that a thing?
“It is lovely to meet you, Mrs. Valiente.”
“Emelia, please,” I ask. Nico squeezes my hand, letting me know that he disagrees with me letting this man call me by my first name. I have changed a lot over the years and understand the importance of my life as a Mafia wife, but I didn’t lose all of me. Emelia is my name and not everyone has to bow when I walk in. They can save that for my husband.
“Your suite is ready; your admin code is activated. Enjoy your stay,”
“Thank you, Mr. Coleman. Also, if guests complain. Move them floors and comp a night.” I physically shiver, my spine going cold. I am a loud lover, as is my husband, but that loud? What exactly does he have planned? My stomach wild with butterflies and deep, unadulterated lust. I need him. Now.
“As you wish, sir.” He leaves us with a nod and moves swiftly back to the front desk.
“Either you plan to torture me or make me even louder than normal.” I lay my head on his arm as we make our way to the elevator.
“Torturing you is the plan; it will make the pleasure better.” He groans in my ear.
Well, my body is officially a full-on inferno.
“Yes sir.”
The elevator pings and the cart empties then we enter. He enters a code and the elevator closes, taking off. It skips all floors, not one stop in the fifty-floor building. I bet that code prevents it from stopping on other floors.
We don’t speak and I will admit, it feels like the first time. There is no way to truly explain it or tap into my body as deeply as I need at the moment, to figure out why this very instance feels like I am going to be with Nico for the first time.
The doors open to the most stunning hall. The floors are all black and gold marble, worth more than what the entire building cost, I am sure. There are deep emerald-green benches in suede with gold squared legs and armrest. The mirrors adorning the length of the hall are oval and rimmed in a gold distressed frame. Real white roses are in each sconce also lining the wall, they are clear, with a gold base and rim securing the glass vase to the base. And that smell—cherries and honeysuckle—invades my senses, yet again.
“Nico—” I go to tell him how stunning the place is but he pulls from me and severs our contact. I look at him confused, suddenly he seems distant and cold. Pulling out his phone, he calls someone. I wait eagerly for him to say something or come back to me, but there is an eeriness to his aura. His energy has completely shifted from inviting—to stranger-like.
“Giulio. Cut the cameras on the fiftieth floor, Luxor suite hall.”
I gulp. He finally looks at me and his eyes are dark and menacing. Oh god. My palms begin to sweat. Here we go.
“Done? Good. Thank you.” Ending the call, he puts the phone in his pocket, never taking his eyes off me. In fact, he is studying me, my face, my body, and everything about me. It almost feels like he could read my thoughts if he keeps at it.
“Nico?” I step up, but he steps back.
“You will do for the night. Clothes off.”
I shake my head. What does he mean I’ll do for the—Oh fuck.
His whore.
I told him I wanted to be his whore and so much more. This is the start.
“Yes, Nico.”
“Don’t say my name. I don’t fucking know you. This is a transaction. Talking without my approval wasn’t what I ordered.”
Holy hell, my mind is spinning and I can’t process everything all at once. I need to get naked, but I am stunned in place.
“You have one hour. Money is on the counter. Get naked. Come in when you’re done undressing.” He turns, walking to the hotel room door and there isn’t enough room in the hallway. It feels suffocating, though it is bigger than most New York Studio apartments. My lungs are being gripped in a vise.
Nico is a stranger, and I am who he paid for, for the night.
I take off my clothes, feeling each piece slide from me and it almost reminds me of a burn. I am on pins and needles and so is my body. The material of my bra catches on my nipples, and I jolt forward. I am aroused by all this immensely. Me and Nico are no strangers to degradation, and I have been called his slut, whore, and more, but he is actually treating me like a whore. “There is money on the counter.” The way he said it, so disassociated and cold, unlike the lover I have come to know, didn’t have me coil in on myself, it spread me open. My chest opened. My body flushed. My core was desperately seeking him at that moment. Still this very second.
Now bare of anything but flesh, I take measured steps, mesmerizing the sounds my breathing makes, my feet padding across the floor, every single noise is so viciously loud. The door is slightly ajar, and with the softest push, I put pressure against the entry and it opens painfully slow.
“Hello?” Stepping in, I would take in all the décor and the intricate details, but I couldn’t care less.
“Count it.”
My eyes find him in the dark. The window curtains are open just enough for the nightlife to light up his form and I gulp. His classic power stance. Right. The money. I look to the left on the entry table and a large sum of cash sits there.
“There should be $100,000 for your hour,” he adds.
My hell. Is that how much he paid other women? Nico probably never had to pay for women, my husband is magnetic, breathtaking, and an animal in the bedroom. Women probably wanted to pay him.
I count it. Knowing that my husband is committed to the bit. Sliding off the band around the cash, I count. Each one-hundred-dollar bill. When I get a couple thousand, I decide it’s time I start playing along.
“I trust you’re good on the money. What do you want to do…” I trail off, waiting for him to indicate what he would like me to call him.
“Sir.”
“Sir.” I step into the living area, mimicking him. There is another hall to the left of me leading to more doors. So this is a multi-bedroom suite.
“There will be an additional $50,000 grand if I am happy with your service.” His voice is low and powerful. I almost feel the rumble in his chest from where I stand. He steps more out of the shadows and now in front of the small agape curtains.
The classic power stance I have salivated over for a decade now. His hands are in his pockets, his shoulders are squared, and his legs expanded just enough. He is a personification of dominance.
“Where would you like me?” He laughs softly, rubbing his middle and pointer finger against his stubble.
“I want to see what I paid for in action. Sit here, now,” he demands, pointing to the couch and I move into action.
I step up to the couch next to him and he moves to the wall, hitting a button, the curtains open on the track. Opening us up to more light and baring us enough to see our intimate parts but leaving an ominous desire lingering in the air. Once the curtains are fully open, I look at the side table next to me and my breath hitches. Toys. Vibrators. Dildos. All in various shapes and sizes.
“Pick your choice and fuck yourself for me.” He takes a seat adjacent to me in the burnt orange leather chair.
“I don’t think I have ever used one like this.” I take the large dildo. “It is the biggest I’ve ever had.”
Might as well push him while I can. Nico is larger than this silicon cock, but he would have to break character to protest and warn me to not test him. Oh, I love this.
“Well, then make it fit in your cunt. Because mine is much larger, and I need to make sure you can fucking handle it, what was your name?”
Touché. Never get in the ring with the devil in underground business, Emelia, you will lose.
“Emelia.”
“Nice name. Are you going to fuck the cock or do I need to call in someone else?”
I shake my head. “No, sir. I’m sure I can make it fit.”
“Then get to it.”
I take the large ten-inch dildo and lubricant off the table. I love when he demands. Flipping open the cap, I pour a small amount. I am desperate and my need is soaking me between my legs, I honestly wouldn’t need any. Leaning back, I spread my legs wide apart, scoot my ass to the edge of the couch and lift my stomach so I can watch. The wide plush head now lined up perfectly with my center, I slide the silicone inside me.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
My head lulled back against the couch. That dull ache that left me feeling empty, needed some sort of friction. I could have used a finger, and it would have done the trick. I enter another inch, then another. Pushing my feet off the ground, my legs rest on my toes. This intrusion is one I both want to get closer to and almost run from. I’m seconds from coming. One slight upward motion to manipulate the dildo and I will hit that spot deep in me and detonate.
My eyes have stayed shut since the first inch of the thick object entered my center but when I hear Nico’s belt buckle clinging harshly, my head snaps up and I watch him work at getting his cock out.
“Did I tell you to stop? Keep moving, and don’t you dare fucking come.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. I want to come—need to, but what he says goes. “You are the one paying, sir.” I moan.
His cock springs free and my jaw goes lax, my brows drawing in. That cock has shown me my greatest pleasures and it will always make me weak. My knees buckle slightly, and my core tightens with the motion.
“You like what you see, Emelia?”
I bite my lip, and he starts to stroke the long, veiny shaft, slowly.
“I do. I really, fuck!” I slide the dildo all the way in and it hits my cervix.
“I said don’t come!” he barks out.
“I want to. Please. I usually don’t get off with my clients, but this feels really good.” I whimper, working the dildo faster. In and out. In and out. Alternating between slow and steady and unhinged and rapidly.
“Do you mind if I use my wife’s panties?” He groans and my heart rate somehow increases.
Yes. Cardiac arrest is just around the corner. This actually sparks a tinge of jealousy, but that evaporates quickly. My panties from earlier. He pulls the material from his pocket. Nico lines it up with his thick, large hands and swiftly swallows his cock again.
“Not at all.” I shake my head, my siren eyes focusing on his pleasure now.
This is exquisite. Watching him watch me. Pleasing myself for him to please himself. My panties wrapped around his hard cock. What a visceral image in front of me, but it’s more like art, especially when he picks up his pace.
“Fuck, fuck.” His free hand cups his balls and he massages them, watching the place between my thighs.
“Oh god, yes!” I cry.
“You should smell how fucking good my wife smells. Like cherries. I can smell her cunt still on these panties.” He moans out, this time his face reaches new heights of pleasure. The lines on his forehead deepen with his desperate look. He wants to come just as badly as I do and he is as turned on as I am. Nico is unable to see me as his whore, I can tell he is losing the battle, but I don’t want him to.
“I bet I taste better. So, hurry and let me come so you can use me as your cumslut and forget all about that wife.” I tilt my hand up and the dildo hits my g-spot and he groans out painfully. Coming so hard, I watch it slide down my panties and onto his hand. This time we locked eyes.
“Fucking come, come like a good slut.”
I do, on his demand. We start chasing it, letting the orgasm go on and on. We both moan loudly, it can be heard through walls, I’m sure. I rock my hips back and forth sloppily, riding the toy like it’s his cock and the couch is his powerful thighs supporting me.
“Shit! Oh, uh!” I scream.
“Emelia!” He moans and his whole body twitches with his few last spurts. I laugh softly.
“Whoa, you’re good.” I breathe in and out, matching his.
“You’re not done. Grab a vibrator and suction dildo. I want to see you really work for it.”
Orgasming multiple times in a row only means one thing for me. I need more water, and I will squirt. That is one of the reasons Nico likes to fuck me more than once in one session.
“Would you like to pick the vibrator, sir?” I pull the dildo from my core, and I cry. The loss combined with my swollen center is intense.
“The one that will make your cunt come fast. We have thirty minutes left and I want to make sure I get my full fucking use of you.”
“Hmmm,” I ponder, mockingly of course, looking over the few he has laid out. He and I both know the rabbit vibrator is my favorite and the fastest one to get me there, but like I said—I want to play this game too.
“Maybe this one?” The long, gold-plated vibrator is thin, and I know it won’t do what I need it to in the set time frame, but I slide my fingers over it curiously anyway.
“Twenty-eight minutes, Emelia,” he bites.
“Sir, you’re impatient. Good whores can stay longer with their clients. Especially if they know the orgasms feel good.” My lip catches between my teeth and I slide the gold-plated vibrator between my slick slit. It’s colder, matching the room’s temperature and contrasting against my overly heated skin.
“My wife will expect me home. She isn’t someone I like to disappoint.”
My stomach erupts in butterflies.
“Controlling?” I add.
“Hardly. More like insatiable. Once again, let’s see if you are subpar.”
More butterflies. Early in our marriage, I wouldn’t have been able to say as confidently as I can now, that Nico would never cheat. I mean so much to him. The strongest, wildest, most unhinged man in the world treats me so delicately. I am not just a possession, I am his limb. An extension of him. If I end, so will he.
“I’ll do my best.” Putting the vibrator back on the glass, the ping is just enough to reel me back in. I grab the rabbit and suction dildo and stare at him.
“What do you want me to do now?”