Chapter 11
Vince got up and showered and disappeared for the day. I dressed quickly in my remaining biker attire. My mind was made up—I needed to quit my job at Mather's Fern Farm. I grabbed the keys to one of Vince's many cars, a streamlined black Maserati that purred like a wildcat when I started it up. The engine's roar was almost as satisfying as my Harley's, and I couldn't help but grin as I sped out of the driveway.
The drive to the farm was quick, my thoughts racing faster than the car. I knew my coworkers would be shocked, maybe even a little jealous, when they saw the rock on my finger. But this was a necessary part of the charade.
Pulling up to Mather's Fern Farm, I hopped out and strutted towards the greenhouse, my boots crunching on the gravel. Inside, the familiar scent of damp earth and greenery greeted me. My coworkers were scattered about, tending to the plants.
"Morning, Psycho," called out Jack, a burly guy with a heart of gold. "What brings you here this early?"
I held up my hand, letting the diamond catch the light. "Just here to quit my job," I said with a smirk. "I'm getting married."
Gasps and murmurs of surprise filled the room as everyone gathered around to get a closer look at the ring.
"Wow, Sybil, that's some rock!" exclaimed Lisa, one of the younger workers. "Who's the lucky guy?"
"His name's Vince," I said casually, shrugging as if it were no big deal. "Met him at the charity auction. He's rich, connected, and crazy about me."
They all stared at me with wide eyes, clearly impressed. I soaked it up, feeling a strange mix of pride and guilt.
After saying my goodbyes, I headed back towards Vince's car. Right when I was about to pull out of the parking lot, I spotted my sister Razor at a red light. Out in the work truck, she wasn’t on her Harley. She rolled down her window, her eyebrows shooting up when she saw the Maserati.
"Nice ride, Psycho," she said with a grin. "What the hell?"
I held up my hand again, flashing the ring. "Guess who’s getting hitched?"
Razor's jaw dropped. "No fucking way! Who's the unlucky bastard?"
"Vince Mancini," I said, giving her a big wink. "Long story. We'll catch up later, promise."
Her eyes narrowed, but she returned my wink. "You better. And you better not be getting yourself into some deep shit."
"Always am," I called back, laughing as the light turned green and we both drove off in opposite directions. The guilt gnawed at me, but I had to keep up the act.
When Vince got home that evening, I could barely contain my excitement. We had dinner, the food tasting like ash in my mouth as I waited for the chance to get him alone. Finally, as we finished, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I crawled onto the table, pushing the plates off with a clatter, the sound echoing through the dining room.
Vince looked up at me, bewildered. "What are you doing, Psycho?"
I grinned, my heart racing. "You wanted to give the staff something to talk about, didn't you?"
His eyes darkened with longing, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You're a wild one, aren't you?"
"You have no idea," I whispered, pulling my top off and throwing it aside.
Vince stood, unbuttoning his shirt as he watched me. "Lay back," he ordered.
I obeyed, thrilled by submission. He walked around the room, his gaze never leaving mine. "You want to be a dirty little whore, don’t you?"
"Yes," I breathed, my pussy throbbing.
He grabbed a bottle of wine from the table, his eyes glinting with wicked intent. "Spread your legs."
I did as he commanded, the anticipation nearly killing me. He ran the bottle along my inner thigh, the cold glass almost making me jump.
“Your pussy’s so wet. I bet I could slip this inside of you easily.”
My breath hitched as he pressed the bottle against my entrance, teasing me.
"Do you like this, Psycho?" he whispered, his voice dark and seductive.
"Yes," I moaned, the sensation driving me wild.
He began to push the bottle inside me, slow and deliberate, the pressure building with each inch. I gasped as the neck of the bottle came to an end, but Vince shoved on. His eyes burned into mine as he continued fucking me with the wine bottle, his movements calculated and controlled.
"You're my bride," he growled. "Say it."
"I'm your bride," I gasped, as the hard glass raked against my walls and the wine slushed into me.
His gaze falling to his hands, he increased the pace, moving the bottle in and out of me with a rhythm that was so insanely fast, it was almost mechanical. It felt so fucking good, but part of that was the look on Vince’s face, the way his lip hung down as he admired his work. At the moment I was about to come, the door swung open. Margo stood there, her face a mask of shock, her eyes locked at the bottle and my pussy.
"Mr. Mancini, I—"
"Get out," Vince commanded, not missing a beat.
Margo's eyes widened, but she backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. The interruption only heightened my arousal, but the bottle slipped out of me. Vince's eyes darkened with a dangerous glint. Sinking to his knees, he lapped up the merlot dripping out of my pussy. When he was done, he grabbed the bottle and, with a swift motion, smashed it against the table edge, the shards glinting menacingly.
"You think you can take the lead?" he growled, pointing the jagged edge at me. "I am in charge. You won't be crawling on tables at my parents’ estate and tempting me like this. If I want you, you'll know it."
I stared at him, not knowing what to make of this. But Vince wasn't playing around. With a sudden move, he yanked me off the table and hoisted me into his arms, carrying me through the mansion, bridal style, my bare skin pressing against his suit. "I always get what I want," he proclaimed as we moved through the house.
We passed through luxurious hallways, the opulence of the mansion blurring in my peripheral vision. He threw open a set of double doors, revealing an extravagant pool area. The pool itself was massive, with crystal-clear water lit up in the night. Marble statues and lush greenery surrounded the space, giving it an almost ethereal quality.
Without warning, Vince tossed me into the pool, the cold water shocking my senses. I surfaced, gasping for breath, and saw him stripping off his clothes. He dove in, his powerful strokes sending ripples across the water. He was like a shark, and I was his prey.
He reached me in an instant, grabbing me and pulling me close. His fingers explored every inch of my figure under the water. "My bride," he snarled, his mouth crashing against mine in a bruising kiss.
Vince's hands found my breasts, squeezing them roughly as his mouth moved to my neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks that would surely bruise. I arched against him, the mixture of pleasure and pain driving me wild.
In an abrupt move, Vince took my shoulders and forced me underwater, holding me there. I’d held my breath just in time. Panic flared for a moment, but then the thrill of danger took over. I held my breath, feeling his hands gripping me tight so I couldn’t come up. My pussy pulsed with arousal, every second underwater heightening the sensation.
Vince wrenched me back up, my gasp for air turning into a moan as he immediately continued his assault on my senses. Going under himself, he bit at my nipples like a hungry piranha. His hands moved lower, parting my legs and finding my most sensitive spot. He rubbed me furiously, the water amplifying every touch.
"You're a dirty little whore," he hissed in my ear. "And I expect you to play that part well."
Unable to form words, I nodded, my body mesmerized by his passion. Vince lifted me, pinning me against the side of the pool. He steered my legs around him and plunged his dick inside me, not taking this time. I cried out, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night.
"Take it," he demanded, his voice rough. "Take it all."
I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulders as I rode the waves of pleasure he sent crashing through me. He wasn't done with me yet. Vince slipped his dick out, swung me around, pressing my chest against the cool tiles of the pool edge. With each forceful thrust from behind, he drove me to closer to climax.
The water sloshed around us, the cool liquid heating up around our friction. I felt like I was on fire, every nerve ending smoldering. Vince held my hips, using the leverage deliciously. My head bobbed, and I held my breath when I needed to. But I could barely hold on, my body shaking. When he steered my hips back and dunked my head under while he moved, damn.
Tugging my head back up, he hissed my ear, “You slip up, I could easily kill you.” Then plunged my head under again, holding me there so long, I thought I might drown. And he was still fucking me. I thought I might really die, and fuck, it was so hot.
When he finally pulled my head up, I came, and it was with a gasp for air followed by a scream that seemed to tear through the night. Vince followed, his groan of satisfaction vibrating through me. He pulled out, letting me collapse against the edge of the pool, my body spent and trembling.
Vince hauled me out of the water and laid me down on the cool marble tiles. He hovered over me, his eyes filled with a dark satisfaction. "You're my filthy little whore," he said, his body dripping onto me. "But you have to learn to defer to me. No more jumping on tables."
I nodded weakly, my body still humming with the aftershocks of our wild encounter. "I’ll try," I whispered, my voice hoarse.
"Atta girl," he said, his hand trailing down my body, sending shivers in its wake.
As I lay there, my skin cooling in the night air, I knew one thing for sure, I would play my part to perfection, no matter how dangerous or twisted it got.