17. Portia #3
It comes down for a second lash. Instant heat erupts across my ass cheeks, fiery pain engulfing me whole. I jerk in place, still trying to free myself, ignoring how the hot pain battles with the even hotter fire inside me.
I hold out as long as I can. Strikes three and four arrive with equal precision. The leather collides with my soft, delicate skin and leaves it prickling with heat. His hand strokes the reddened, swollen area like he’s attempting to soothe me.
Some twisted contradiction where he’s both punisher and soother.
By the fifth swat of the belt, I’m no longer able to hold back the whimpers. Cries escape my throat, my breaths coming in between.
My ass stings, already sore. Then his massaging hands return to blur the lines that have already become so hazy I can’t even fight back anymore.
His firm, knowing touch feels like heaven after hell. It sends quakes of confusing pleasure through me as he gropes my ass and then his fingers slip to my panties. He rubs at the thin material covering my pussy, stimulating me in the worst ways.
“Are you going to obey me, Portia?" he asks, his voice huskier and more strained than I’ve ever heard it.
“I hate you!” I gasp.
But even as the words leave my lips, I'm horrified to realize they feel less true than they did minutes ago. My body is betraying me, responding to his dominance in ways that make my cheeks burn with shame.
The belt returns in swift and vicious fashion, slamming into my bare ass and eliciting a sharp cry from me.
The moment feels endless as he demands my obedience and I cling to the last shred of stubbornness I have left. I search for the small blip of pleasure from his fingers on my pussy and concentrate on that and only that.
The leather strikes and I writhe in his lap. My pussy throbs, nerve endings firing off to drown out the stinging pain.
He knows this as he pauses every few lashes, his fingers toying with me. He rubs me in a way that creates friction between his fingers and my panties.
…that leave me soaked in record time.
“Tell me how you want me to touch you, dolcezza,” he says throatily. “Do you want the pleasure or do you want the pain? Will you be my good girl or do you want to keep being bad?”
I keen in answer, my head reeling.
I can’t think straight like this, bent over his lap with his fingers on my pussy and my ass on fire.
The threat of the belt looms.
“Well?” he presses, sliding my panties to the side. He touches my slick lips so gently, so teasingly that my whole body shudders. “Do you want to be good or bad? Tell me now.”
“I’ll… I’ll be good!” I find myself answering.
The voice almost doesn’t even sound like my own. It’s as if I’m suddenly under a spell, my pussy throbbing.
It’s been weeks since I’ve felt Rafael’s touch and now a dark need I didn’t know I had has been awakened.
…but this isn’t Rafael! This is Il Diavolo!
I scream at myself again and again inside my head. Yet my mouth and body have taken over, disobeying every thought trapped inside the foggy mess that’s my mind.
“I’ll be your good girl,” I pant. “I… I promise!”
He’s slid two fingers inside me, slowly pumping them in and out.
“Are you sure?” he asks throatily. “Is that what you really want?”
“Yes! YES !”
The belt falls to the ground with a clang. His hand, large and warm, settles on my supple burning skin. "Is that so?"
He pulls me up to straddle his lap and I find myself yearning for more of his touch. I should pull away, should scream, should fight… but instead I find myself nodding as I draw air into my lungs.
“Tell me you want me, dolcezza.” His fingers slip back between my thighs, finding my slick, throbbing pussy. “Tell me why you're wet for me.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I am wet—I'm soaked, and we both know it. His fingers brush my clit, so taunting and teasing that I can't stop the moan I release.
“I… I… Rafael?—”
“ Diavolo ,” he corrects. His erection presses against my thigh, proof that this is affecting him just as much.
“Please,” I whisper, no longer sure what I'm begging for.
“Please what?" He rubs my clit in a circular motion, and I arch against him with a cry. "Tell me what you want.”
“I don't… oh god…” I'm coming apart in his hands, my defiance crumbling with each skillful movement of his fingers. “You… I want… you…”
His dark eyes have gone wild, all control abandoned as he cups my face in his hands.
“You're going to be the death of me,” he growls before his mouth crashes down on mine.
The kiss is fierce and desperate, full of weeks of suppressed tension and forbidden desire. I kiss him back with equal fervor, my hands tangling in his dark hair as he lifts me easily and carries me to the massive bed that dominates the center of the room.
His hands work fast undressing me, pulling at the dress I’m wearing until I’m stripped bare. His mouth follows the path of his fingers as he kisses every inch of exposed brown skin. He’s finally taken off the mask, his features twisted in a way that almost makes him look different than Rafael.
When I reach for his shirt, he pulls back and quickly disposes of it himself. His pants are next to go before we're skin to skin, hearts racing in tandem.
“You're so fucking beautiful,” he growls against my throat. The words are so earnest it’s almost like Rafael’s speaking through him. He presses kisses along the delicate column, his hands caressing every part of me.
It’s as if he’s decided to abandon any act he’s put on. He can no longer control himself, and for this moment alone, he’s letting himself indulge.
His mouth returns to mine in another hot kiss. Our tongues meet, both breathless and overcome with need.
He positions himself between my thighs, his big dick pressing against my entrance. When he finally pushes inside me, it’s with a slow, teasing thrust that sets off the nerve endings in my pussy.
I cry out at the stretch, my back arching off the bed. He's as big as I remember, yet after so long untouched, it’s instantly overwhelming.
“Fuck, dolcezza,” he groans against my neck, his muscles tensing. “You feel so damn good.”
He starts to move, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in with a force that makes the headboard slam against the wall.
Each thrust is deeper than the last, hitting spots inside me that make stars explode behind my eyelids.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, craving more of him.
…of Rafael.
Diavolo.
“Harder,” I gasp, my pussy rippling around him. “Please, Rafael, I need?—”
He doesn't let me finish. His hands grip my hips with bruising force. He pounds into me with raw, desperate passion, his thrusts coming fast and deep.
It’s just what I need after the punishment he’s given me. After these confusing feelings he’s brought out and the blurred lines we’ve crossed.
The rougher the better. The more I’m able to close my eyes and lose myself in the moment, arms and legs wrapped around him.
I take him so deep that I feel an ache inside. Pleasure so intense rolls through me, taking me right to the edge.
“Is this what you wanted?” he growls, his voice rough with desire. “To drive me fucking insane?”
I can't bring myself to answer him.
All I can do is hold on as he takes me with a force that borders on violent. My nails rake down his back, and he hisses in pleasure, the pain only spurring him on. He switches up the angle, suddenly hitting that sweet spot with every thrust.
“Oh god… oh fuck… right there!” I scream. “Don't stop… please… Diavolo !”
His mouth finds mine in a bruising kiss, swallowing my cries as he drives me closer and closer. Tension coils tight in my belly, building to something explosive. When he slides one hand between our bodies to circle my clit with his thumb, I shatter completely.
“That's it, dolcezza,” he murmurs against my lips as I convulse around him. "You belong to me now. You come for me now. Your pussy is wrapped around my fucking dick, not his.”
The orgasm flashes through me like lightning, leaving me trembling and gasping underneath him. But he's not done—he flips me over onto my hands and knees with expertise, his hands smoothing over my ass where the belt marks are still tender.
"I need to see you like this," he says, his voice thick as he positions himself behind me.
When he slams into me again from this angle, I cry out at how deep he goes. He sets a punishing rhythm, his hands gripping my hips as he takes me with abandon. His breathing is ragged, his movements becoming more erratic.
“Dolcezza,” he pants as we move together as one.
It occurs to me through the haze of my orgasm that I've given into the man who holds me captive. The same man who calls himself the devil and has kept Rafael from me.
But as another wave of pleasure builds between us, I'm soon sobbing his name. I can't bring myself to care about the consequences.
In this moment, there's only Diavolo—only his dick deep inside me and my second orgasm rippling through me—and nothing else.
When we finally collapse together, breathing hard and slicked with sweat, I curl against his chest. Some part of me hoping for Rafael’s return.
Then reality comes crashing back in.
Il Diavolo disentangles himself from me in a way Rafael never would. One second we’re nestled together, the next he’s pulling back and getting up.
He refuses to look at me as he slides into his pants and quickly buckles his belt.
“What…?” I start, completely confused.
“That is enough for tonight, dolcezza,” he says sternly. “It’s time for you to return to your room. My guards will be watching, so don’t try anything.”
I’m speechless as he reaches for the mask and returns it to its rightful place on his face.
“You heard me,” he says seconds later when I still haven’t moved. “Leave. Now!”
The coldness in his tone sends a chill through my bones. I swallow, then slowly climb out of the bed, so lost that I’m still hazy from both orgasms.
But I’m not moving quick enough for him. He yells for Daniela to come and take me, like he can hardly stand the mistake he’s made.
The door flies open as I’m sliding my dress back on. Daniela rushes to collect me. The two of us flee the room as quickly as we can, Diavolo fuming in our wake.