Chapter 22 Vivian #2
I knew I should say the words. I should have wanted to push him away, to reclaim the control he kept stripping from me. But when the toy pressed against me, its smooth surface sliding into me inch by inch, all coherent thought dissolved.
It stretched me and made me feel so full that I gasped. He leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear. “If you can’t handle this,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress, “how will you ever handle my cock?”
His words sent a shiver of indignation and arousal down my spine. I instinctively clenched around the toy, my breath hitching as he withdrew his hand, the ghost of his touch lingering. As he pulled my panties up, his fingers grazed my clit, and my hips jerked involuntarily.
“Eat your dinner.”
I reached for my fork with a shaking hand. The room was suddenly stifling. Every movement reminded me of the toy nestled inside me, the way it stretched and filled me. I focused on the plate in front of me, determined to pretend I wasn’t unraveling.
And then it began to vibrate.
The fork clattered from my hand, and I sucked in a breath. I sent him an accusatory glare, but he only cocked an eyebrow, the picture of composure.
“I can control it. Whenever I want. Like now.”
The vibration intensified, the sensation radiating through me. I clenched my thigh and held my breath as I squirmed in my chair, trying to find relief. He watched me closely, his gaze heavy with lust, his emotions seeping through the bond and feeding my own.
“Breathe,” he said. “You’re going to come right here in front of me, aren’t you?”
I shook my head, biting my lip to stifle a moan.
But the pressure built and built until I couldn’t fight it anymore.
The orgasm tore through me, a silent cry catching in my throat as my body tightened and shuddered.
I gripped the edge of the table, my vision swimming as the toy continued its torment.
He turned it off, and the sudden absence was almost as shocking as the climax itself. I slumped back in my chair, my body trembling, my breathing ragged. He had a smug look on his face, his satisfaction radiating through the bond.
“Finish your dinner,” he said. “We’re just getting started.”
After we finished eating, Raffaele led me out of the dining hall, his hand firm around my wrist. My body was still reeling, my thighs trembling with aftershocks, and the infernal toy inside me made each step a challenge.
I could feel it shifting slightly as I walked, the wetness between my legs making the sensation even more unbearable.
The bastard hadn’t even given me a chance to adjust.
I gritted my teeth. “Where the fuck are we going?”
He didn’t answer at first, his long strides forcing me to stumble to keep up. His grip was firm but not painful, just commanding enough to make me burn with frustration.
Finally, he glanced over his shoulder, the smirk on his lips igniting a fire in my chest. “I’ve decided to host a private party.”
My stomach dropped. A party? What fresh humiliation did he have in store for me now? The bond thrummed between us, and I could feel his excitement—a dark, predatory thrill that only heightened my apprehension.
“Raffaele,” I hissed, tugging at his hand. “Take this thing out of me.”
“Not a chance, my naughty little wife. You want it out… do it yourself.”
I wanted to scream, to claw at him, but part of me didn’t want this to end.
I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, trying not to let the slick glide of the toy distract me.
But gods, it was impossible. Every step sent a ripple of sensation through me, the friction teasing places I didn’t want to be teased.
We stopped in front of a tall, ornate door.
He pushed it open with ease, revealing a balcony overlooking a grand ballroom.
Below, dressed in opulent finery, vampires, fae, and shifters mingled.
Raffaele had gathered some of the most prominent and wealthy beings for his soiree.
A full orchestra played on a stage at the far end, the music swelling and filling the space with a hauntingly beautiful melody.
Raffaele stepped behind me, his chest brushing against my back. He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. I could feel the heat of him, the solid strength of his body, and his erection at my ass. My pulse raced as his fingers dipped beneath the fabric of my dress.
“Keep your eyes on them,” he murmured. “Let them see how easily I can break you.”
The words sent a shiver down my spine. My cheeks burned as his hands roamed, one sliding up to tease my clit while the other pressed against my lower belly, holding me in place. The toy shifted inside me, and the added pressure had me biting back a gasp.
“Raffaele,” I whispered shakily. “People can see us.”
But we both knew I didn’t want him to stop. The bond betrayed me, radiating my confusion, my fury, and my undeniable arousal. I hated him for it. Hated him for knowing exactly how to control me, how to make me feel like this.
His lips brushed against my ear. “How did I know that you were such a good fucking girl and would eat this up?”
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to fight him, to scream at him, but my body betrayed me, my hips arching into his touch as he stroked me with maddening precision. Every brush of his fingers sent a jolt of pleasure through me.
He pulled back suddenly, leaving me trembling, and gestured to a chair. “Sit.”
I hesitated, but the bond thrummed with his dominance, his command wrapping around me like a leash.
Slowly, I lowered myself into the chair, wincing as the toy shifted inside me.
Crossing my legs was out of the question, so I sat with my knees pressed tightly together, my hands clutching the armrests.
Without another word, Raffaele disappeared through the door that led down to the ballroom. He made his grand entrance, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The crowd parted for him, bowing their heads in deference as he strode toward the head of the room.
Suddenly, the toy inside me came to life, vibrating with a relentless rhythm. I sucked in a sharp breath and dug my fingers into the armrest as I fought to keep my composure.
I glared down at Raffaele, but he simply crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He turned the vibration up, and my hips shifted involuntarily. I clenched my thighs, desperate to fight the building pleasure, but it was no use.
The crowd followed Rafaele’s gaze. Their expressions were curious, amused, some even scandalized. Humiliation burned through me, but I couldn’t deny the little thrill beneath it.
I couldn’t take it anymore. If he wanted a show, I’d give him one. Besides, the audience weren’t seeing the real me. Raffaele had said that I was illusioned as some vampire prisoner, which only made me bolder.
I opened my legs wider, revealing my bare thighs. A collective gasp rippled through Raffaele’s company as I moaned loudly, gripping my inner thighs and throwing my head back.
Raffaele narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward in his chair. I felt his fear through the bond, his control slipping as I turned the tables on him.
Sliding a hand down my neck, I traced the curve of my collarbone before slipping my fingers beneath the neckline of my dress. I pulled one breast free, tweaking my nipple with deliberate slowness.
The orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, pleasure rolling through me in relentless waves.
My body arched as I cried out. I didn’t care who was watching.
I didn’t care about the whispers or the gasps from the crowd below.
All I cared about was the satisfaction of seeing Raffaele on his feet, his face pale, his control shattered.
He wanted me to suffer in silence, not putting on a show.
He stormed toward the door, and the vibrations inside me ceased. I let out a shaky, victorious laugh.
For the first time, I felt like I’d won.