Chapter 7 #5
His voice drops, turning rough and demanding. “Say it. Tell me you want your king. The man who’d spill blood for you. Who’d burn the whole fucking world down, even stand against God, if it meant having you.”
I writhe and tremble under his hands, begging. “Please, Tony…please.”
He nibbles the shell of my ear. “Stop fighting yourself. Tell me you want your king. Say it.”
Shaking, desperate, I finally break. “I want you.”
Those words are enough for him. I feel his weight press me deeper into the mattress as his lips crash into mine with raw power—his kiss hard, demanding, possessive.
He catches my bottom lip, sucking hard, then moves to the top, devouring me like a starving man.
His tongue slips past my lips, tangling with mine, swirling in a sensual rhythm that sets my head spinning.
His hunger feeds mine, making me lose control. I try to match him, clumsy and desperate, giving everything I have.
As he kisses me, his hands roam over my body, one palming my breast with a roughness that makes me gasp into his mouth. The pressure is firm, almost too much, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his lips begin their descent, leaving a trail of heat down my skin.
He moves lower, claiming my breast with his mouth and squeezing the other firmly. His tongue swirls over the sensitive skin, his lips sucking with a hunger that borders on feral.
The pleasure is driving me insane. My fingers dig into the sheets, clutching them as my back arches, pressing my breast further into his mouth.
For a moment, both of his hands wrap around my waist, holding me in place as his mouth moves between my breasts. He takes each one in turn, lavishing them with greedy, wild attention, like he’s been starving for me for years.
Then his lips trail lower again, his hands returning to my chest, kneading and molding my breasts as though they are his alone. When his mouth finally settles on my clit, it feels like pure damn heaven.
The heat of his tongue, the intensity of his touch, it’s intoxicating.
He pulls my clit into his mouth, and I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, trying not to scream. Even if the room is soundproof, I’m too scared to scream.
His teeth graze the edges of my core, teasing and tormenting me, while his tongue circles my entrance with maddening precision. It’s too much. I feel like I’m going to shatter.
Pinned to the bed by his powerful hands, I twist and writhe, my body trembling uncontrollably as if I’m on the verge of breaking apart. Everything inside me is tightening, coiling, ready to snap.
When he pulls away, the cool air hits my wet, throbbing pussy and I almost whimper. The relief is gone in seconds.
Something hotter, thick, and large takes the place of his mouth, pressing insistently against my entrance.
My body tenses, the sudden drop in my temperature a sharp contrast to the fire raging within me.
Instinctively, I try to pull away, but his hand presses firmly against my chest, holding me in place.
His breath coming in rough pants as he whispers,
“Tell me, Princess. Your walls are stretched, aren’t they? Soaked and desperate to be filled. Aren’t I right?”
It’s all true. I’m soaked, aching, throbbing with a need I’ve never felt before. My body clenches, desperate to be filled. I can’t answer. Instead, I shake my head, silently fighting it.
He kisses me hard, devouring my mouth, then growls against my lips, “Tell me you want me. Tell me you want your king to fill you. Say it.”
God, I’m only human. For years I’ve dreamed of this exact moment, the moment I stop being a girl and become a woman. And the man in my dreams has always been Tony.
I say the truth. “I want you.”
In the next second, he pushes firmly against my entrance, and with one hard thrust, he fills me completely.
A scream rips from my throat. The pain is sharp, cutting deep. He stills above me, body rigid, breathing hard while I writhe and struggle for air beneath him.
He buries his face in the hollow of my neck.
“It might not be your first time technically,” he gasps, “but it’s the first real time. Your body knows pain before pleasure. Bear it for me. Let it fade. Surrender to me.”
His fingers draw slow circles over my clit. Time seems to blur as the sting of pain fades, replaced by a warmth I can’t find words to describe. Being filled by him—hot, thick, pulsing—consumes me completely. It feels exquisite, unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
My breath steadies slightly, though my chest still rises and falls with every heavy inhale. He pulls back just enough to speak, his voice low and rough.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, even though he can’t see my face beneath the blindfold.
Slowly, he pushes himself back inside, filling me once more.
“Spread your legs for me. As wide as you can. It’ll make this easier.”
I obey without hesitation, my thighs parting as far as they’ll go.
He moves between them, his hips pressing into mine, the coarse hair of his thighs brushing against my sensitive skin.
His weight presses me to the soft mattress.
The blindfold heightens everything—every touch, every sound, every movement.
His fingers keep stroking my clit in slow, perfect circles, sending waves of pleasure through me. His lips are close to my neck, his warm breath teasing my skin.
“I’m going to start moving,” he whispers. “Just hold on for me. I promise I’ll make you come, Princess.”
Without waiting for an answer, he pulls back and thrusts forward, his movements deliberate and steady. As he withdraws, it feels like my walls cling to him, the stretch sending a dull ache through me. But when he pushes back in, pleasure washes over me, erasing everything else.
The rhythm of his thrusts is slow at first. Each movement drives me deeper into the mattress. His hand on my clit doesn’t falter, his touch perfectly synchronized with his hips.
Gradually, his thrusts go deeper, though his pace remains steady and controlled. My body rocks beneath him, the mattress creaking faintly with each movement. His free hand cups my breast, squeezing it as his breath turns heavier, his voice rough with need.
“This pussy is mine,” he growls. “Always has been. Thank fuck no one else got to touch you before me.”
I hear the deep, guttural moans escaping his throat, each one laced with pleasure. His hand slides behind one of my knees, lifting and bending it slightly. The new angle sends him deeper inside me, and pain shoots through my body.
“Slower…please,” I whimper.
He exhales deeply, and gently lowers my leg back down. His fingers press harder against my clit, reigniting the pleasure that had begun to wane.
“Fuck, Princess. You’re incredible. Perfect.”
The words rumble out of him with a deep growl, shaking my already trembling body. My fingers dig into the sheets and I moan in pain and pleasure.
He buries his face in the curve of my neck, his weight pressing heavier against me, grounding me beneath him. With every thrust, the base of his cock brushes against my clit, sending shockwaves of sensation that threaten to break me completely.
A cry tears from my lips, loud and unrestrained.
“Oh God…oh God…oh!”
I want to call his name, to scream it, but it feels foreign on my tongue. Instead, I lose myself in the rhythm of his movements. He picks up speed, not to hurt but to draw out every ounce of pleasure.
The tension coils tighter and tighter until it finally snaps.
Pleasure crashes through me in a violent wave, shaking me to my core.
I scream, my body writhing uncontrollably beneath him.
In that moment, I don’t care who might hear me, don’t care if the whole world knows.
I’m consumed by the wild, unrelenting pleasure, melting into the heat of it.
Even as I shake and cry out, he doesn’t stop, riding out every last wave of my orgasm. His weight keeps me pinned to the mattress, his hot breath falling against my ear and neck.
A few more thrusts, and I feel it—his cock swelling inside me, pulsing as a deep groan escapes his throat. He pulls out quickly, and warmth spills across my skin.
He collapses on top of me, heavy and solid, pressing the air from my lungs. I’m too drained to protest. His teeth graze my earlobe in a soft, playful bite as he pants against my skin. “Even better than I imagined…tight, hot, and fucking mine.”
I’m too exhausted to answer, too spent to decide if I should feel flattered or sick at the thought that he’s been imagining this while he was gone. Instead, I let the heavy haze of exhaustion pull me under, surrendering to the deep, dreamless sleep that overtakes me.
***
The smell of cigarette smoke pulls me awake, but I keep my eyes closed. He’s beside me. My heart pounds as the memory of what we did crashes over me. A heavy wave of guilt settles deep in my chest.
I betrayed my husband.
A husband who’s never hurt me outright. I slept with another man—not just any man, but one of his sworn enemies. I’m a disgrace. A worthless, faithless woman.
“Don’t overthink it, Lucia. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I hear him and finally open my eyes. The room is still bathed in the faint red glow from the bedside lamp. Tony lies next to me, staring up at the ceiling as he takes a drag from his cigarette.
The sheets don’t cover him, leaving him completely naked, but I don’t dare let my gaze wander to his body. Instead, I clutch the blanket tighter, pulling it up to my chest. My voice, barely audible, escapes in a hoarse whisper, “What we did was wrong. I betrayed my husband.”
He props himself up slightly and stubs out his cigarette in the same candleholder beside the bed. When he turns back to me, his eyes are like blocks of ice.
In the red glow that bathes his body, he looks like the devil himself, risen from the depths of hell to drag my sinful soul to damnation.
“Don’t ever mention Carlo’s name in front of me again. Understood?”
“I gave you what you wanted. Why would we ever see each other again?”