Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Nico
She smiles with raised eyebrows, projecting nervous anticipation. I'm consumed with desire, my arousal throbbing with an urgent need I struggle to control.
“Show me?" she murmurs.
With the city teetering on chaos, betrayal, and assassins at my heels, my need to dominate my captivating painter erupts within me, surges through my veins, possesses me as completely as I need to have her.
"It's time you learned who’s in charge."
She moans when I pivot her so her sweet voluptuous curves face me. I envelop her from behind, positioning myself to press against her luscious body. As I trail kisses along her neck, she undulates against me.
"So, you want to be my Don as well, huh?” she teases.
"Fuck," I groan, my arousal intensifying further.
"Yeah, Nico?"
"You're mine," I declare. "I own your curves, your magnificent ass, your exquisite thighs, your generous hips. Everything. Every inch. I can indulge my every whim with you."
I'm surrendering to passion, trembling throughout my body.
"What do you want to do?" she whispers.
Rather than responding verbally, I gently push her upper back forward. She grasps the bedframe, glancing over her shoulder, her hair cascading in beautiful disarray across her back.
"Have you ever been spanked before?" I growl.
"I've never done anything before," she confesses—then gasps when my hand connects with her softness.
Her eyes widen as an enticing smile spreads across her lips. “Oh my, Don Moretti."
I repeat the action several times. Her fitted pants reveal tantalizing outlines as she quivers with each spank.
"No one else has the privilege of touching you like this." I strike again, then maintain contact. Grasping her waistband, I lower her pants. "Except me."
She moans with a complexity befitting her artistic nature. I detect nervousness beneath the predominant hunger, excitement, need... to be claimed, to be mine.
"Tell me who you belong to," I demand.
"You seem different," she whispers.
I pull her pants down, trapping her thighs together, framing her underwear where evidence of her arousal makes me increasingly feral. My desire reaches painful heights.
"I am." I press my hand against her sex, eliciting sounds that threaten my control. "You've been waiting for this moment. To be claimed by me. To become mine. As desperately as I've been waiting to claim you."
"Yes." She gasps as I caress her through the delicate fabric.
"Then tell me."
"I belong to you."
"Your skin has bloomed beautifully," I observe, kneeling behind her. I kiss her sumptuous body, savoring her shivers. I kiss the area I spanked, then carefully lower her underwear.
When I see her soaked sex, I nearly lose it. Yet I have to remember she's a virgin. Beyond that, I'm exercising restraint... with my city, with my painter. I pull her panties down until they tangle with her pants.
"You’re going to do what your Don says," I state firmly.
She glances over her shoulder. "Is that so?"
"Indeed—you're going to wait until I tell you to cream for me."
I grasp her ass with both hands, bringing my face to her center. She pitches forward, reclining on the bed with her legs dangling over the edge. I hungrily caress her as I trace my tongue along her folds, tasting her essence, then circling her entrance teasingly.
"All my life," I groan between attentions, "I never craved control. Never aspired to become a Don. I accepted the mantle from necessity."
"N-Nico," she whimpers, beginning to tremble as if approaching climax.
"Now I understand the desire to possess someone completely. No one else is ever going to see you quiver like this, hear these precious moans..."
I explore her entrance with my tongue while simultaneously attending to her clit with my thumb, beginning with gentle pressure. The combination clearly overwhelms my perfect painter; her moans become breathless and urgent like they did when I brought her to orgasm in the car.
I lavish attention on her nub, savoring her essence, using my tongue with precision as I enter her. Her body responds enthusiastically as I find a rhythm, increasing pressure with each moment.
I sense the mounting urgency in her body, her desperate need for release.
"Nico," she whimpers. "I don’t know if I can hold on."
"Not until I say so," I growl.
"Oh, God."
I trail kisses along her sensitive flesh, then take her clit into my mouth. I suckle her bud using my tongue, her moans nearly turning into cries of release. She sounds precariously balanced on the edge of control, moments from surrender. When she presses herself against my face, I know she’s close.
Her hips move instinctively, uncontrollably.
I withdraw slightly, listening to her ragged breathing.
"Are you trying to drive me crazy?"
I gently circle her sensitive point with my thumb, causing her to shudder and press against me again.
"You're close."
She laughs breathlessly. "How could you tell?”
"Your body feels like it’s going to burst into flames, piccola pittrice. Your passion comes through, like it does in your work."
"Are you g-going to..." she falters when I resume my attentions.
"Put you out of your misery"
"Y-yes. Please, Nico."
"You need to understand that when you surrender completely to me, when your body responds so exquisitely, I won’t be able to restrain myself. I claim every aspect of your perfection—every magnificent inch. Understood?"
"I understand completely. I'm ready."
"Prepared for what, precisely?" I growl.
"You know..."
"Tell me. Give me every dirty detail."
“Can't you put me out of my misery first?"
"Be a good girl and do what you’re told."
"Nah-uh. Either continue as you intend, or this painter’s mouth stays squeaky clean."
"So, you're negotiating now."
"If anyone can succeed, surely it's the painter whose passion makes you feral, right?"
I smirk before returning my attention to her sex. She shifts her ass rhythmically, pressing herself against my face. I trace her most sensitive area with my tongue before returning to her entrance, exploring her depths while simultaneously stroking her with my fingers, moving with increasing urgency.
Her release arrives swiftly. She trembles uncontrollably as waves of pleasure course through her curvy body, her essence flowing freely.
I deliver another gentle strike as she climaxes.
Afterward, I stand, tearing down my pants. She watches wide-eyed over her shoulder.
"Tell me what you’re ready for," I demand, lowering my underwear, my arousal evident and ready.
"I'm ready for... your cock."
I smirk. "Don't get shy with me now. Be specific. Or have you forgotten who’s in charge?"
She bites her lip before saying in a rush, "I'm ready for you to lie me on your bed, put me on my back, and strip off my clothes. And I'm ready for you to get naked and cover my body with yours..."
"So that’s how you want it??" I growl.
"Mmm." She nods. "This is my first time, remember.”
"Then obey your Don and strip. Completely."
She rises and turns toward me. Our hands move frantically. I tear away my shirt and kick off my remaining clothes. She discards her pants. The movement causing her breasts to sway enticingly.
I take her shoulders and guide her to the bed. She falls back, gazing up at me.
"You look so primal," she murmurs.
"Primal?" I echo.
"Like a wild animal. As if you've been caged. Like you've been waiting."
"I have," I snarl. "Caged for too damned long, waiting for my perfect painter to come along and show me what it means to crave dominance. Open your thick, gorgeous legs for me."
She complies as I position myself over her. My tip brushes her inner thigh, making her shiver.
"You look both nervous and anticipatory. In equal measure."
“Maybe I am a little nervous," she admits. "But I'm ready. I've been ready since our night at the putt-putt place."
“Are you ready to be mine? To be claimed."
"Hmm." She moans as she nods. "You're the boss, Don Moretti."
"You're making me even harder. Reach down, grab my shaft, guide me to your virgin slit."
She slides her hand between our bodies, then wraps her fingers around my base. A shiver of intense desire ripples through me as she directs my tip to her sex, teasing it across her clit. Her eyelids flutter.
"Did you do that on purpose?"
"Maybe," she whimpers.
"Without my permission?"
She smiles. She relishes when I boss her around. I reach down, grasp her wrist, then guide it over her head. I take her other wrist so that I'm restraining both in mine, pinning them firmly.
"You own me," she whispers, deliberately provoking me. "I'm yours."
Securing her wrists with one hand, I grip my throbbing shaft with the other and position myself at her entrance.
She moans when I press against her tunnel, her tightness constricting around me, yielding slightly as I rock back and forth.
"You're ready," I groan. "You want this, Vignette. You've craved this since our first kiss. You wanted this the night I drove you home. You want this as desperately as I do."