Chapter Five-Buddha #3
“Get your ass up and try this on,” I told her, unzipping the bag that stored her wedding dress. Pulling the simple but very elegant designer dress out, Dior made a face when she saw what it was.
“I told you, I’m not marrying you,” she immediately started with her bull-shit, and I released an exasperated sigh.
“Can we please not do this today? Now, before I get upset and pull my gun out of my waist, get up and try on this dress,” I dropped it on her lap, waiting for her to do as she was told.
“Will I be able to leave today? I think I’m going insane being locked up in here,” Dior said, getting to her feet. She was wearing shorts and a tank top, her hair disheveled. However, she was still the prettiest female to me.
“I’ll think about it. Now hurry up, I got shit to do,” I said, going to sit on the chair she occupied the first time she was brought into this room.
Sighing loudly, Dior began to strip out of her clothing.
I took a sip of my alcoholic drink as I took in all of her.
Usually, she would try to hide so I couldn’t see anything, but today, she could give a fuck.
She took off everything except her bra and underwear.
I stared at her curvaceous body, enjoying seeing her half-naked because she was sexy as hell.
She shimmed into the form-fitted wedding dress that hugged her in all the right places.
I stretched my long legs, never taking my eyes off her as she slipped her arms into the low-cut dress.
“Can you zip it up, please?” She asked, her eyes sad.
“Come here,” I used my hand to signal. Silently, Dior walked over to where I was seated and turned her back to me. Placing my glass on the floor at my feet, I did the honors and zipped up her dress…slowly.
“Turn around, let me see,” I told her, picking up my glass and taking a sip.
Facing me, Dior avoided eye contact, keeping her head bent.
My eyes took their time to devour every inch of her.
The floor-length dress was covered with lace trimmings.
The left side had a skin-colored cutout, giving the appearance that her side was exposed.
Placing the glass to my lips, I took a small sip.
I smiled because this woman would be my wife tomorrow. “Look at me,” I demanded, waiting for her to comply. Dior stared into my soul, and I felt a warmth travel from my toes straight to the top of my head. Maybe it was the five glasses of bourbon I had, but I wanted her to get closer.
“Come here,” I held her hand and gently tugged her, so she could sit on my lap. Giving in, she sat on my left thigh and licked her lips that I wanted to feel for the second time.
“What’s that?” she pointed at the glass in my hand.
“Bourbon. You want?” I offered, she nodded eagerly, and I handed her the glass. I paid attention to her mouth as she placed the rim of the glass to her lips and took way too much of a big sip. She coughed a little and then tried again, taking her time.
“Gimme some,” I told her, feeling my body react to her closeness.
Taking another sip, Dior leaned in and I willingly opened my mouth as I grabbed the sides of her face.
Our eyes never disconnected as she allowed the liquid to run from her mouth straight into mine. I swallowed greedily, licking my lips.
“Do you know what tastes even better than this bourbon?” I asked, my voice husky and deep with desire.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“You,” I replied and crashed my lips against hers.
I was hungry as my tongue forced its way inside of her mouth.
Taking the glass from her hand, I placed it on the floor, never breaking our kiss.
Grabbing both sides of her face, I roughly kissed her.
Dior moaned into my mouth as she wrapped her arms around my neck, playfully toying with the hair at the nape of my neck.
“Tell me you’re gonna marry me tomorrow,” I coaxed her as my hand began to make its way under her dress. My stubborn wife-to-be didn’t comply and instead stayed quiet.
“Did you hear what I asked? Tell me.”
“Mmmm,” she moaned when my fingers brushed the front of her panties. Rubbing her until my middle finger found her clit. Dior sucked in some air as I made lazy circles on her pulsing clit.
“I’ll be your wife tomorrow,” she repeated, closing her eyes as her lips parted, enjoying what was being done to her.
I lost my composure then; this was not why I came down here.
It was like I was under some weird ass spell.
Removing my hand from between her legs, I placed my index and middle fingers at her lips.
“Lick my fingers,” I commanded. Dior opened her pretty eyes and looked at me as she stuck her tongue out. Circling the pink tip around my fingertips.
“Spit on them,” I gave my second instruction. She slightly hesitated at first before she allowed a generous amount of saliva to coat my fingertips.
“Good girl,” I praised her before placing my hand between her legs again. This time, I allowed my fingers to slip inside her underwear.
“Now, look at me and listen to everything I’m about to say as I talk you through this shit.” By now, Dior was panting softly, and I loved that. I liked the way she was reacting to me.
“Open your legs some more,” she did as I asked and separated her knees wider. I now had better access, and I used my fingers with her saliva to sink into her wet, tightness.
“Listen to what I say. I don’t want you closing your eyes, and I don’t want you to cum unless I say you can. Do you understand me?” I explained my rules while my fingers fucked her. Her pussy gripping my fingers with every movement.
“I understand,” Dior answered breathlessly, locking her eyes with mine.
“Good girl. Now, fuck my fingers back; don’t have me doing all the work,” I said, moving my hand a little faster, deliberately picking up the pace. Parting her lips, Dior began undulating her hips against my hand, riding the two fingers that were buried deep inside of her.
“I like the way your pussy gets so fucking wet for me. The way your walls are gripping my fingers. This pussy don’t want me to leave.
It loves the way my fingers are fucking it, making you wetter and wetter with every stroke,” I talked my shit as Dior grinded against my hand.
She began closing her eyes as she dipped her head back. Forgetting the rules I just gave.
“Na, open your fucking eyes,” I demanded. I was the one in control; she needed to remember that. Her eyes quickly opened.
“While my fingers fuck you. Would you like it if I played with your clit?” I didn't wait for a reply.
My thumb already found her hard, pulsing bud, and I began to rub it.
My dick was hard as a mothafucka. I wanted nothing more than to fuck Dior for the remainder of the day.
However, not today, not right now. This demonstration was all about her, to show her that I was the one running this show.
Her running away and her smart fucking mouth are all about to come to an end tomorrow when she becomes my wife.
“Sssss, oh my God,” Dior moaned as she used one hand to grab the front of my shirt, her hand on my knee as her nails dug into my skin. She was about to cum, I could tell by the way her breathing changed and the way her clit stiffened under my touch.
“Look at you. Are you ready to cum for me, Dior?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding her head vigorously as she tried her best not to lose complete control of her senses.
“Yeah, I know this figa (pussy) wanna cum for me. I can fucking feel it,” I said, smiling before I abruptly removed my hand from the inside of her underwear.
The confusion on Dior’s face as her body went into withdrawal from the sudden shift from her being on the brink of having an orgasm.
She felt as though cold water was tossed on her.
“Let me tell your ass something, I’m in control.
I’m the captain of this mothafucking ship.
When we get married tomorrow, all this nonsense of you running away in the middle of the fucking night.
You not knowing when to hold your fucking tongue and speak like you got some sense.
” I pointed at her face with my index finger.
“All that shit comes to an end tomorrow when we get married. Ricci women allow their husbands to lead. We the mothafucking Alphas,” I thumped my chest loudly and proudly as I grimaced at her.
“The sooner you get that, the easier this union will be. Do you fucking understand me, Dior?” I could tell just by the way her nostrils were flaring a tiny bit that she didn’t quite enjoy my little speech.
I waited for her to say some slick shit, so I could leave her ass locked in this room for yet another night.
However…
“I understand Buddha,” even though she said what was needed, I could tell it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Saying nothing, I picked up my glass with the fingers that were just inside of her pussy.
I dipped them inside the warm liquid, twirling them around, mixing Dior’s juices with the expensive bourbon.
Removing my fingers, I placed them inside my mouth and sucked them dry.
“Now that I have made myself clear. Get up, take that dress off, put your clothes back on, and let’s go.
You’ll spend the night here at the main house.
I dare you to try some silly shit under Tomasso’s roof.
Also, if you think I’m bad, as is my father.
You have no idea just how deadly Victoria Ricci can be.
” Dior got up from my lap, listening attentively to my warnings.
She remained silent as she removed the wedding dress and began getting dressed. Getting to my feet, I picked up the dress and placed it back in the bridal bag, then zipped it closed.
“Are you ready?” I asked once she was done adjusting her clothing. She stood upright and looked over at me. Nodding her head before she realized she needed to use her words.
“Yes.”