Chapter 15
Emmeline
Holy shit.
The man was pierced.
In all the times I’d fantasized about him, almost every time he’d been pierced. But I’d envisioned a Prince Albert, which was entirely different than the one Donatello had.
While the name wasn’t sexy, the apadravya piercing going through the glans of his bulbous cockhead at a slight angle, the feel of the metal bar against my tongue was spectacular.
That wasn’t all.
From what I’d heard and had yet to experience, the sensations inside a woman’s pussy were supposed to be… fucking amazing.
I pressed my hand against his chest, staring up at him as the connection we shared continued to change, morphing into something I’d never expected.
In a blink of eye, it seemed everything had changed.
How so?
Because of all the flirting we’d done, the teasing and spiteful bickering had landed us in a heated round of passion.
But when challenged, something had snapped inside Donatello.
Not only did his entire expression darken, his eyes pools of black onyx, but I sensed a shift in his acceptance of what we were doing.
He was taking control, not just for tonight or because that was the basis of his personality, but also because he truly believed he owned me.
Normally, I’d balk, even with him as the alpha male in the starring role mixing up the storyline, but I was more excited than before. I was enthralled.
Intrigued.
Honestly, I couldn’t put a perfect saying or even word to the change that had occurred just seconds before.
He’d also spanked me, the moment different than when he’d done so in the office inside Indulgence. Not only because he’d used a belt, but also because he’d been determined that I deserved the punishment. He hadn’t come out and called me a bad girl, but I’d sensed that’s what he’d thought.
As if I needed to be disciplined on a regular basis.
He was crazy for thinking so.
Yet every time I moved, I was reminded how painful and delicious the spanking had been. He hadn’t been kidding, the strikes of the belt leaving me in anguish, but by the end, I’d been dripping, my inner thighs coated in juice.
My bottom remained on fire, but so did every other inch of my skin.
But now as he leaned over on the bed just as he’d done at the kitchen table, I was drunk on my desire and from the way he was looking at me.
He narrowed his eyes, taking several deep, raspy breaths as he peered down at me and all I could think about was where the game was headed.
Or if this was even a game at all.
If so, the danger was about losing my heart.
Not only was that something I’d promised myself I’d never do with anyone, but it was also physically and emotionally impossible with Donatello.
No matter how much I craved the man. No matter that we were well suited together or that he’d laid claim to me, he’d be dead before the engagement party.
Well, maybe not dead as I honestly didn’t think my brothers would go that far, but he would be banished and I’d be sequestered in a locked castle for the rest of my life.
Maybe that’s why the forbidden aspects of sharing whatever time we had were that much more delicious.
But as far as any chance for reality? None.
I rubbed the flat of my hand down his stomach, still marveling at the incredible ink I’d had no idea existed.
I’d been so enthralled by the sight of his huge cock when the towel had fallen I hadn’t paid enough attention to the dark scene highlighted by the raven.
It was as if he was trying to depict death.
I half expected there to be other artwork including gravestones and trees covered in gnarled vines.
Yet as disturbing as they were, in my mind they were also beautiful.
The discomfort he must have gone through with the sensitive skin near his cock was frying my mind. Then there was the piercing.
If he was trying to prove that he was a true savage, then he’d done so. With the addition of the various scars from knife and bullet wounds, his body was a canvas of the dangerous life he led.
He was oh-so wrong for me, but right now, my gut told me he was everything I’d ever desired.
Some might call this a catastrophic mistake, but he was right about one thing. It was much too late to worry about that.
His long hair was swept over his shoulders as he carefully balanced himself over me. Just seeing the expansion of his muscles in his arms was enough to keep me mesmerized.
Everything about him was powerful, more so without his clothes. He was the most beautiful specimen of a man I’d ever seen.
I shifted my hand down to his glistening cockhead, flicking my finger across the sterling bar. He chuckled and lowered his gaze. “It would seem my sweet Ambrosia is eager.”
“Just very hungry.” I was being truthful.
“Then I guess we need to do something about that.” He lowered his head, holding his lips less than an inch above mine.
I tilted my chin, barely able to breathe. “Yes, you should.” Bending my knee, I rubbed my leg against his thigh, perhaps as additional enticement. My pussy throbbed, my core already overheated. All the nights I’d lusted after him while pretending I couldn’t stand him had come down to this.
He shifted his hips back and forth, taking his time to allow me to enjoy the moment. It was often said that clothes could make the man, and with him and his insufferable need to constantly wear designer suits, that was true.
He’d always been impeccably dressed. Even though I’d overheard or had gleaned through resources of my own that Donatello as the enforcer took his job seriously, indulging in his bloodlust more than passion, I’d never seen him covered in blood.
Maybe because I was the protected princess, but I’d purposely snuck around from time to time, trying to learn everything my brothers were up to. Donatello had always appeared as if walking off a runway in Milan.
Without his clothes, everything about him was entirely different. He was the rugged savage with no conscience or soul, just as I’d imagined.
He brushed his lips across mine before pulling back.
There was no doubt from the way he was looking at me that he had every intention of devouring me. I don’t know what I’d expected, the man refusing to take no for an answer. While I had no doubt that was true, he was taking his time. Allowing me a moment of limited control.
As soon as I wrapped my hand around his cockhead, guiding the tip against my pussy, he straightened his shoulders. It wasn’t a significant move, but a telling one.
There was no turning back.
Even with no guarantee of a happy ending.
After another deep breath, he pushed just the tip inside.
“Oh, my God.” The sensations tearing through me were indescribable. I was in a sweet little bliss that I never wanted to come down from.
Several sounds escaped his mouth, all of them husky growls. As soon as I rolled my fingers down his arm, I realized I’d left marks from my fingernails.
I had a feeling he’d wear the marks with pride.
Perhaps he’d figured out that I was tight. Years of nothing but a vibrator would do that to you. He was tender, at least at first, allowing me to move my hips while he kept himself aloft.
I rolled my hand over his shoulder, arching my back as his cock slipped deep into my pussy. There was no describing the way my muscles felt as they expanded or the moment he filled me completely.
There’d never been a time with any other man that making love had felt so damn right, even if the act itself was considered so very wrong.
I took a gasping breath, doing everything in my power to maintain eye contact. When I moaned, his brows pinched together, his chest rising and falling as if worried about me.
“You’re so… Big.” My laugh was full of nervousness, something I could tell he hadn’t expected.
“You’re so wet. And even more beautiful when my cock is buried deep inside.”
He slowly pressed the full weight of his body against mine and as soon as he did, he pulled one arm over my head then the other while I wrapped my other leg around his waist.
When he yanked both my wrists together, cradling them in one hand, I didn’t struggle. At least at first.
I was curious as to what he had planned.
He shifted his hips, moving back and forth until his cock was fully seated inside.
I’d never felt so full in my life. The way he brushed his fingers along the outside of my leg sent a series of shivers tickling every inch of skin.
As soon as he reached my foot, he took another deep breath before nuzzling his face into my neck.
Together we rocked, the feel of his cock and the piercing keeping me on a sweet edge. I crushed my legs against him as he bit my earlobe, whispering all the things he wanted to do to me in his deep voice. And in Italian.
“Ti scoperò per ore, principessa, prendendomi tutto ciò che ho desiderato per così tanto tempo. E dopo, ricomincerò da capo finché non ti sentirai allo stesso tempo usata e amata. E urlerai il mio nome implorando di averne ancora.”
I’m going to fuck you for hours, princess, taking everything I’ve craved for so long. Then after that, I’m going to start all over again until you’re left feeling both used and cherished. And screaming my name as you beg for more.
The thrill of his words was enough my pussy clenched and released several times, somehow drawing him in even deeper.
The way we rocked brought us closer together, the sweet bliss of what we were doing as incredible as it was shocking.
When he lifted his head, he held the kind of smile on his face that had always annoyed me. But this time the expression was putting an exclamation onto his promise made in Italian.
He rose onto his forearms, switching the angle. As soon as he did, I jerked up from the bed. “Oh, my God.” I was shocked anything could feel this incredible.
The way he rolled his hips continually pressed the tip of his cock against my G-spot. I’d never felt such electric sensations before. Not once in what limited passion I’d experienced in my life.