Chapter 27 Mara
MARA
His mouth is on mine before I can finish the word whoever.
There’s no hesitation. No gentleness. Just heat and fury as his body slams into mine and pins me to the office door.
His tongue shoves into my mouth like he’s punishing me for opening it.
And I let him. I kiss him back with teeth, with hunger, with every bit of rage I’ve been storing since the moment he caught me when I fell from my balcony trying to escape him.
His grip is brutal—one hand in my hair, the other locking around my waist. His thigh presses between mine, grinding up into my core like he already knows how wet I am for him.
“You want to flirt with my men?” he growls against my lips. “You want to put your mouth on another man like it’s nothing?”
“I didn’t know I belonged to you.”
His hand tightens in my hair and yanks. My head jerks back with a gasp.
“You don’t,” he snaps. “But your fucking body does.”
I should hit him. Spit in his face. Call him the bastard he is and storm out like I’m not shaking from the way he’s touching me. But I grab his shirt instead. I dig my nails in and pull him closer, hips grinding into his thigh like I’m just as angry, just as desperate.
“You’re jealous,” I breathe.
His eyes narrow. “You’re knocking on hell’s gates.”
“Maybe I’m a sinner begging to be let in.”
His nostrils flare. His hand leaves my waist and shoves under my dress. One rough swipe over my panties, and he finds me soaked.
He smiles, cold and cruel. “Of course you are.”
I moan when he presses down harder, rubbing slow, mean circles that make my knees buckle.
“You’re already dripping, and I’ve barely touched you.”
“You’re the one who kissed me,” I pant.
“You’re the one who keeps pushing.” His other hand grips my chin and forces my mouth open. “You want to provoke me? Fine. But remember…you asked for this.”
Then he spits in my mouth. I gasp, but he’s already shoving two fingers in, forcing me to taste him. His thumb stays hooked on my chin, holding my mouth open while I suck his fingers like I’ve got no pride left.
He groans. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
His hand moves lower fast. My panties are ripped down the middle in one brutal tug. Then he’s between my legs, two fingers pushing deep inside me without warning. I cry out, back arching against the door.
“You think Luca could do this to you?” he snarls into my ear. “Think any of those little boys of yours know how to make this pretty pussy beg?”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
He smiles like I just unleashed something untamable. “No, nixie. I’m gonna fuck you.”
I don’t get time to think. Not about Luca. Not about what this is. Not about how the fuck we got here. All I know is I’m pinned, the skirt of my dress shoved up around my waist, and Nicolo’s fingers are buried inside me—deep, fast, unrelenting.
He fucks me with them like he doesn’t care if I break. My hands scramble for something to hold, but there’s nothing. Just the hard surface of the office door and the sharp burn of his body on mine.
“You want to tease me?” he growls against my throat. “You want to make me jealous? This is what that earns you.”
I moan as his thumb drags across my clit, slow and cruel, the perfect contrast to the way his thick fingers pump in and out of me like a warning.
No, not a warning. A promise.
His other hand is still in my mouth, two fingers fucking my tongue like he owns it. I suck him deeper, eyes rolling back as my body arches against his.
“Christ, look at you,” he breathes. “Fucking desperate.”
He pulls his fingers out of my mouth with a wet pop, then shoves them into the neckline of my dress and yanks hard.
The sound of fabric tearing fills the room.
I gasp as cool air hits my bare chest. My bra’s gone. He tosses it aside like garbage and drags the shredded dress down past my hips. He twists me around; my cheek hits the cold surface of the wooden door.
“I liked that dress,” he says, voice dark. “That color. The way it clung to you like a goddamn warning sign.”
I open my mouth to say something smart, but he clamps a hand around my throat and slams his cock into me.
No prep. No warning. Just thick, brutal heat stretching me open in one punishing thrust. My scream is swallowed by his hand, my back arching so hard it slams my shoulder blades into him.
He doesn’t give me a second to breathe. He fucks me like he’s lost control. Like he wants to brand me. To make me never forget who I belong to now.
Each thrust is harder than the last. Fast. Deep. No rhythm, just possession.
“Who owns this pussy?” he grits out.
I shake my head, but he tightens his grip on my throat and slams in harder.
“Who the fuck owns it, Mara?”
“You do,” I choke out. “You fucking do.”
He groans like I just fed him something he’s been starving for. “You’re goddamn right I do.”
His free hand slides down my spine and fists my hair, yanking my head back so he can watch me.
“I want to see your face when I ruin you.”
His cock hits something deep that sends a white-hot shock through my core. My knees start to give out, but he holds me up, fucking me harder, meaner.
“Come for me,” he snaps. “Fucking do it.”
“I…I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. You’re soaked. You’ve been ready since the second you saw me.” He shoves two fingers between my thighs, rubbing my clit in tight, furious circles while he pounds into me from behind.
That’s all it takes. I shatter. My body jerks and clamps around him, everything going tight and hot and electric. I scream his name, nails clawing at the door as the wave after wave crashes through me.
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. He fucks me through it like he’s trying to wring every last drop out of me.
“Still think you’re in control?” he snarls.
I’m too fucked out to answer this. So he slaps my ass, hard enough to make me cry out.
“You want to act like a brat, you get treated like one.”
He pulls out, flips me around, and lifts me by the thighs. My back hits against the door, legs wrapping around his waist, and his cock slams back into me from the front. We both groan.
He’s deeper this way. Rougher. And I feel every fucking inch.
His mouth crashes onto mine. There’s nothing soft about it. It’s teeth and breath and filthy desperation.
“You think any other man would fuck you like this?” he pants. “Think anyone else would lose their fucking mind over the thought of someone else touching you?”
“No,” I gasp. “Just you.”
“That’s right. Just me.”
His hips jerk faster, slamming me up into the door with every thrust.
“You belong to me now,” he growls. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I cry out.
He grunts, fingers digging into my ass as he starts to lose rhythm. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours!”
His eyes lock on mine. Wild. Unforgiving. “Fucking mine.”
He thrusts deep one last time and groans as he comes—hot, thick, claiming. My entire body trembles against him.
I feel his cum dripping out of me down the inside of my thigh, and still, he doesn’t let go. His forehead drops to mine. And for a second, just a second, I feel something dangerous in that silence. Something like regret.
But then he steps back, breath ragged, cock still hard against my ruined, used body.
“Desk,” he snaps. “Now.”
He lets go of me so suddenly, my knees almost give out. My dress is ripped, my panties are gone, and my body is already shaking from the first round.
“Desk,” he orders again, low and sharp.
I stumble across the office, palms catching on the polished wood as he crowds me from behind. My heart is hammering. My thighs are slick.
He grabs my hips and drags me back against him, then bends me forward until my cheek presses to the cool wooden surface. “Stay down.”
His hands spread me open, thumbs pressing into the bruises he’s already left on my skin. He doesn’t enter me. Not yet. Instead, he drops to his knees.
“Nicolo—”
“Shut up.”
His mouth covers me from behind. Hot, wet, relentless. His tongue slides between my folds, licking me like he’s starving, like the taste of me is the only thing keeping him sane. I claw at the desk, biting my lip to keep from screaming as his tongue circles my clit, then drives back inside me.
I come fast. Too fast. My body jerks, a choked cry tearing out of me as he sucks harder, groaning like I’m the best thing he’s ever had.
He doesn’t stop.
Again. My thighs shake; my nails scrape the wood. He pins my hips to the desk and keeps eating me until I’m sobbing, until my third orgasm crashes through me and I’m nearly crawling away from the overload. Only then does he stand, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and feral.
“You taste like you were made for my downfall,” he rasps.
Before I can catch my breath, he shoves his cock back inside me from behind. The desk rocks under us with the force of his thrusts. I moan into the polished wood, my body still sensitive, still too weak.
“Stay right there,” he growls. “I’m not finished with you yet. Unless you don’t want it?”
He slows to an excruciating pace.
“I do. I want it. Please don’t stop,” I cry out.
It seems to work because each thrust is harder, deeper, his hips slamming into mine until I’m crying out with every stroke. He fists my hair and pulls me upright, my back arched against his chest as he pounds into me.
“You’re ruined now. None of those boys will ever fill the hole my cock is going to leave. Will they, Mara?” he snarls in my ear.
“No,” I gasp.
“That’s right, baby.” He drives in one last time, deep enough to make me see stars, and groans against my neck as he spills inside me again.
My legs give out, but he holds me up, still buried deep. Then he pulls out, breath ragged, and shoves me toward the chair behind the desk.
“Get on my lap,” he orders, voice low and dangerous. “Ride me. Show me what a needy little whore you are.”
He drops onto the chair like a king on his throne: legs spread, cock hard again, still glistening with me.
“Get on,” he says.
I straddle him without hesitation, lining him up and sinking down slow. My thighs shake. My pussy aches. But the stretch feels too good to stop.
Nicolo groans, his fingers digging into my hips. His hands slide up my body, rough palms cupping my tits. He leans in, mouth hot and greedy as he sucks one nipple into his mouth.
I moan, rocking my hips in slow, grinding circles.
“That’s it,” he mutters against my skin. “Ride me. Make it filthy.”
I do. I grind on him slow and deep, each thrust hitting right where I need it. His mouth moves to the other nipple, sucking hard, then biting just enough to make me whimper.
“You like being used, don’t you?” he growls. “Chasing an older man, letting him fuck you raw.”
“Yes,” I pant. “God, yes.”
He grabs my ass and bounces me harder on his cock. “Then take it, needy little slut.”
My head falls back. My moans echo off the walls. I ride him until I come again, shaking in his lap, clinging to him like I’m drowning. His fingers dig into my flesh as he finishes inside me once again.
I’m still on his lap by the time I come down from the high of my orgasm, breathing hard, my thighs trembling on either side of him. His cock’s still buried inside me, softening, but he doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t kiss me. Doesn’t say a word.
Just silence.
And then he exhales once. Sharp. Final. His hands drop from my hips.
I start to move, but he grabs the lapel of his suit jacket over the back of the chair. Without a word, he yanks it off and throws it around my shoulders. Not gently. Not lovingly. Just…done.
“Cover yourself,” he mutters. “You’re not walking out of here looking like that.”
I blink. My dress is in shreds. My body’s wrecked. His cum is still leaking out of me.
“Nicolo—”
“Don’t.” His voice is detached.
I freeze.
He doesn’t meet my eyes as I climb off his lap. Instead, he just reaches for a glass, pours himself something, and downs it in one swallow.
Then he finally looks at me—cold, hard, unreadable.
“You want to provoke me again, Mara?” he says, voice like ice. “I need you to understand that you won’t get what you think you will.”
My stomach twists.
“I will break you.” He nods toward the door. “Get out.”