Chapter 20 Silvo
SILVO
Adrenaline still pumps through my veins as I lead Carmela back to our room. The violence from the club, the fear I felt when I saw that piece of shit put his hands on her—it all culminates in a possessive need that threatens to consume me.
I whirl around to face her, my jaw clenched tight.
“I’m going to clean that bastard’s blood off my hands,” I growl, my voice rough.
Carmela’s eyes widen, but to my surprise, she reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping me in my tracks. “No, Silvo,” she says. “Take me with your hands as they are—stained with that man’s blood.”
Her words catch me off guard, and I stare at her, stunned. The defiant glint in her eyes dares me to challenge her, and in that moment, I’m reminded of why I’ve been so drawn to her since Giovani’s club in LA. Her unwavering spirit, her refusal to be cowed, speaks to me like nothing ever has.
Without a word, I pull her close, my blood-stained hands cupping her face as I kiss her. She responds with equal fervor, her body molding to mine as we lose ourselves in the heated embrace.
“Does it turn you on, seeing me like this? My hands covered in another man’s blood?” I ask, my eyes searching hers.
“You know it does, Silvo,” she says, her voice husky, sending a shiver down my spine. “You know the sight of your raw power sets my body on fire.”
Her admission sends a rush of pride through me, and I grasp her hips, pulling her firmly against me. “You like it when I play rough, when I mark you as mine.”
It’s not a question, but she answers anyway. “I do. It makes me feel...” She trails off, biting her lip as her cheeks flush a pretty pink.
“Makes you feel what, baby?” I prompt, tilting her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze.
She swallows. “It makes me feel alive. Protected. Like I’m exactly where I belong.”
I bend my head and claim her mouth in a punishing kiss, my hands twisting in her hair to angle her head just so.
Up to now, I’ve kept my darker desires in check, wanting to ease Carmela into my world. But tonight, seeing her in danger, unleashed the beast within. That spark of defiance in her eyes—even after being attacked—dares me to push her; to show her exactly how much she means to me.
Yanking her around so her back is pressed to my chest, I unfasten the zipper down the side of her dress and strip her. My wife doesn’t resist, helping as she steps out of it and then pulls her panties down eagerly, tossing them aside.
I bite her shoulder and unfasten her bra, yanking it away. Once she’s naked for me, I cup her tits and play with her pebbled nipples.
Carmela arches her back, moaning.
“Lie on the bed,” I demand.
She does as she’s told, lying down on her back and watching me. I open my nightstand and pull out a length of rope.
Her eyes widen. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Introduce you to a whole new world of pleasure,” I state. Curiosity, apprehension, and a darker emotion flash across Carmela’s face.
Uncoiling the rope, I let it dangle in front of her eyes. “Do you trust me?” I ask, my voice steady, belying the pounding of my heart. This is a moment of truth, a test of our connection.
She studies my face for a moment, her green eyes searching, and then she surprises me with a bold smile. “With my life, husband.”
“Good,” I murmur, my fingers already deftly working the rope, crafting intricate patterns against her creamy skin. “Because I’m about to show you how good it can be to submit.”
This is a delicate process, one that requires focus and care. I start with Carmela’s torso, wrapping the rope in intricate diamond patterns across her chest and around her waist. She watches me intently as I work, focused on creating beautiful rope lines that accentuate her curves.
I move down to her legs, gently bending her knees and binding her thighs to her calves so she’s naturally spread for me.
The rope creeps steadily up toward her most sensitive areas, but I purposefully avoid them for now. I want her arousal to build, craving my eventual touch. Her breathing grows heavier in anticipation, skin flushing beneath the crisscrossing ropes.
I move upwards along her arms, restricting her movements. Her hands are bound palm to palm behind her back, secured but not uncomfortable. I check the ropes, ensuring they are properly tight and secure. Carmela tests the bindings.
The rope wraps her body like fine lingerie, emphasizing her beauty. She lies before me, vulnerable yet trusting, eyes bright with desire.
Leaning down, I press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “You look beautiful like this. Bound for me and only me.”
I can’t resist bending to capture one of her taut nipples between my teeth, biting down gently before soothing it with my tongue. She whines so prettily.
“You like that, don’t you?” I murmur. “You like being tied up and played with.”
“Yes… please, Silvo...” Carmela whimpers.
Hearing her say my name like that, her voice thick with need, sends a shot of lust straight to my groin. I trace my fingers down her stomach, watching her muscles clench with anticipation.
“Are you ready for more?” I ask, my tone dark and possessive.
She nods eagerly, her eyes fixed on me.
I take her response as permission to explore further, my fingers dipping lower, tracing lazy circles around her core.
She’s wetter than she’s ever been. “Look at this, Carmela,” I whisper, my fingers gliding through her slickness. “You are so fucking wet.”
A pretty red blush creeps up her neck, but her eyes remain locked on mine, daring me to continue. I chuckle darkly, my thumb pressing gently against her clit, relishing the small gasp that escapes her.
But I have other plans for now.
I position her like a doll on her knees for me, her shoulders resting against pillows on the mattress. Once she’s settled, I grip her hips and bring my pelvis toward her ass, admiring the way her ass cheeks look framed in rope.
Taking a firm grip on one curved cheek, I squeeze.
Carmela whimpers, and I swat her playfully, the sound echoing in the room. The imprint of my hand stands out pink against her creamy skin, and I grow harder than I believed possible at the sight, knowing I put that mark there.
I pepper kisses down her spine, enjoying the taste of her skin, before pausing to nibble lightly on one side of her ass. Carmela mewls, pushing back against me, and I chuckle, the sound turning into a groan as I deliver a sharper smack, the sound filling the room.
Again and again, I alternate between torturing her with my tongue and biting her flesh before spanking her hard. Her skin grows pinker, marked by me. The sound of my palm connecting with her flesh becomes the cadence of our growing desire.
Carmela writhes before me, her hips pushing back to meet my hand, her bound arms straining. Her breath comes in sharp pants as each spank sends pleasure-pain through her body.
I feast on the sight of her like this—bound, writhing, and at my mercy. Every whimper, every squirm only fuels my desire, and I know I won’t be able to hold back much longer. But I want her absolutely shattered, a boneless mess, before I finally claim her.
So, I continue my ruthless assault, enjoying the way her moans fill the room, intermingled with the sharp sound of my palm meeting her flesh.
The sound is dark and full of promise as I watch her dance for me, bucking her hips against the bed. She’s desperate, so close to the edge, and I want to savor every moment of her beautiful agony.
Reaching into my nightstand, I pull out a vibrator. As the low buzz fills the room, Carmela tries to look at me over her shoulder, but can’t with the restraints. I run it gently up her calves, enjoying the way her breath catches as I trace lazy circles on her skin.
Then, slowly, deliberately, I drag the vibrating toy up her thighs, relishing her whimpers as it teases her wet, eager core. I pause, letting the toy hover just shy of where she wants it most, smiling at her frustrated whine.
She tries to buck her hips, seeking more friction. “Please, Silvo… I need… oh, God, please!”
“You need what, Carmela?” I ask.
“You know what I need,” she bites out, her voice strained. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”
Teasingly, I run the vibrator along her slit, avoiding her clit. “You want to come, don’t you, Carmela? Want to feel that sweet release?”
“Yes! Yes, please, I need to come,” she begs.
“Not yet, beautiful. Not until I’m buried deep inside you.”
“Please, Silvo… I can’t take much more… please let me come.”
My cock throbs at the desperate edge in her voice. “Not yet,” I growl. “Not until I say so.”
With that, I press the vibrator firmly against her clit, sending her close to the edge. Only to back off instantly, making her grunt.
Teasing is an art form. Knowing when to stop, when to start, and when to edge right up to the line.
I continue, building Carmela’s anticipation with the vibrator, her needy whimpers spurring me on. I swipe the toy along her swollen folds, dipping it inside her.
“Please, Silvo...” she gasps. “I’m begging you… let me come.”
The power I hold over her at this moment is heady. With a final swipe of the vibrator, I set it aside, instead delivering a sharp smack to her ass. The pink imprint of my hand stands out against her flushed skin, a mark of my possession.
My wife jerks at the contact, her body shuddering. “Please...” she whimpers.
I free my cock from the confines of my pants, lining myself up with her dripping wet core. Slowly, torturously, I rub the tip of my cock through her folds, not quite entering, but teasing her.
Carmela mewls, bucking her hips in an attempt to impale herself on my length. I hold her hips firmly, preventing her from getting what she craves. “Not yet. Be patient, wife.”
Her cunt is hot and wet, her arousal coating my tip as I play with her. I groan, my control fraying, but I force myself to savor this moment just a little longer.