Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Lucia
Alexei pulled me closer again, leaving no space for anything but him.
His hand stayed locked around my throat, squeezing, owning every breath I took as he walked me until the backs of my thighs hit the massive bed. The room spun for a second, all silk and shadows and the heavy scent of him—gun oil, expensive cologne, and raw, male hunger.
He didn’t speak at first. He simply looked at me like I was the only thing left in his world, the Italian mafia princess he’d stolen from a rival family now his entire universe.
“Take the dress off,” he ordered when he stepped back, voice low and rough like gravel, or maybe broken glass because it felt sharp across my skin. “Slowly. I want to watch my wife unwrap herself for me.”
My fingers trembled as I reached for the hidden zipper at my side. The heavy white silk slid down my body and pooled at my feet like spilled cream, leaving me in nothing but a tiny white lace thong and the diamond choker he’d fastened around my neck during the ceremony.
His eyes dragged over every inch of bare skin, dark and predatory, but there was something deeper in them now, something akin to obsession, pure and unfiltered and all for me.
“Fuck,” he growled, the word almost reverent. “Look at you. My perfect little Italian princess. All that innocence wrapped up for me to ruin.”
He stepped in close again, one big hand cupping my breast, thumb dragging roughly over my nipple until it ached. His other hand went back to my throat, sliding up and tilting my chin up so I had to meet his stare.
“You’re shaking,” he said almost softly, his Russian accent thickening with need before morphing to possessive dominance.
“Good. I want you to feel every second of this. I want you to be scared. I want you wet. But most of all,” he murmured, his accent intensifying more as he stepped closer to me, “I want you to know you’re mine now and only mine.
No other man will ever touch what belongs to The Butcher. ”
He shoved me back onto the bed before I could respond.
The mattress dipped under his weight as he followed, knees bracketing my hips, caging me in completely.
His suit jacket was already gone, tie loosened, shirt half-unbuttoned, revealing the ink and scars that marked him as a leader of the Russian Bratva.
The sight of all that brutal power looming over me made my pussy clench so hard it hurt, even as nerves twisted in my stomach.
Alexei hooked two fingers into the front of my thong, looked me in the eye for only a second while he smirked, and ripped it clean off my body.
Pinning me with his eyes, he raised the ruined lace to his nose and inhaled deeply.
A groan ripped from between his lips. “Gonna hang on to these, keep them in my pocket and pull them out so I can smell you any fucking time I want.”
He set them aside, then spread my thighs wide with his palms, staring down at my bare pussy that was soaking wet and getting more drenched by the second.
“Already dripping for your husband,” he murmured, voice thick with dark satisfaction.
“Such a tight, untouched, little virgin. I’m going to be the only man who ever knows how this feels.
” He shifted his body down so his face was between my thighs then dragged his tongue through my folds in one long, filthy stroke.
He groaned like I was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
My back arched off the bed with a broken cry when he licked me again, harder, sucking my clit into his mouth and flicking it with the tip of his tongue until my thighs started to shake around his head.
The pleasure built fast, sharp and overwhelming, but underneath it was the nervous flutter of knowing what came next…
my first time with a man who would never, ever, let me go.
“Alexei,” I gasped, fingers fisting in his hair.
He lifted his head just long enough to growl against my pussy, eyes locked on mine with that possessive fire.
“You don’t come until I’m inside you. I want your first orgasm on my cock, wife.
Understand?” Then he buried his face between my legs again, tongue fucking into me while his thumb circled my clit with ruthless precision.
I was sobbing as I nodded, unable to speak. My hips ground against his mouth on their own. I could have gotten off from this alone and was so close to doing just that when he suddenly pulled back.
He rose up on his knees stripping his shirt and tie off with violent efficiency, his cock springing free and bobbing against his abs when he peeled his dress pants down his thighs.
It was thick, heavy, and veined, the head already slick with his arousal and flushed dark.
It looked obscene, far too big to fit inside me, yet I knew it would.
The sight of it made my stomach tighten with equal parts fear and raw, aching need.
Alexei wrapped one hand around the base and stroked himself once, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving mine.
“Beg,” he said simply, but his voice was hoarse with restraint.
“Tell me you want your Russian husband to take your virginity. That you want this huge cock stuffed into that tiny little pussy.”
I was past shame, past anything but the burning need he’d built in me and the terrifying certainty that this man would kill for me, die for me, and, now, own me forever.
“Please,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Please, Alexei… I need you inside me.” The words were foreign to me. I had never said anything like that before.
Of course, I’d explored my own body, touched myself until the pleasure was starting and I forced myself to stop. But being with Alexei woke something in me, something that demanded I give him whatever he wanted because it… made me feel good.
He rose back up and leaned over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other guiding the thick head of his cock to my entrance.
He rubbed it up and down my slit, coating himself in my wetness, teasing my clit until I was whimpering.
Then he pressed forward with just the tip, stretching me open with a slow, burning pressure that made me gasp.
“Breathe for me, princess,” he murmured, forehead pressed to mine, voice rough but strangely gentle in its obsession. “It’s going to hurt at first. But you’re going to take every inch like the good wife you are. This pussy was made for me.”
He thrust forward in one steady, unrelenting stroke, burying himself to the hilt.
Pain exploded through me. It was sharp and tearing, like something inside me gave way completely.
I cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as my body clenched around the massive invasion, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
It felt like too much. I was too full, like he was splitting me open, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe through it.
Alexei froze, buried deep, his entire body trembling with the effort not to move.
“Fuck… you’re so tight. So perfect.” His hand stroked my hair, possessive and soothing all at once, lips brushing my temple.
“That’s it. Let your body adjust. Feel how deep I am?
This is where I belong now. Only me. No one else will ever know this. ”
The pain eased after a long moment, melting into a deep, aching fullness that made my walls flutter around him. I wondered if the hot trickle I felt was a mixture of blood and my wetness, the proof of my virginity lost to him forever. The thought sent a dark thrill through me.
He started to move slowly, leisurely strokes at first, careful despite the way his jaw clenched like he was barely holding back.
Every thrust dragged against that raw, sensitive place inside me, the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of my soaked pussy filling the room.
The pain faded more with each careful glide, replaced by a heavy, building pleasure that made my hips lift to meet his.
“Mine,” he snarled against my ear, hips snapping forward a little harder now, obsession bleeding into every word. “This tight, Italian pussy is mine. This body. This blood on my cock. Everything. All of it. I’ll kill any man who even dreams of looking at you.”
His intense possessiveness should have angered me, made me feel like an object, but it had the opposite effect.
It turned me on even more. He fucked me deeper, one hand sliding back to my throat, pinning me down while the other gripped my hip hard enough to bruise, to leave marks I knew I’d wear like a brand tomorrow.
Every thrust drove me up the bed. Every time he bottomed out, the head of his cock hit something that made stars burst behind my eyes. I came without warning, gasping his name, pussy clamping down and squeezing around his cock so tightly he cursed in Russian.
“Tak khorosho. Tak tesno.” So good. So tight.
My orgasm ripped through me, sharper because of the soreness, my body still adjusting to the stretch of him. He didn’t stop. Alexei fucked me straight through it, hips slamming against me, balls slapping against my ass, until I was shaking and sobbing beneath him.
“Ty, blyat, ideal'na, Lyuchiya.” You're fucking perfect, Lucia. “Again,” he growled, thumb finding my swollen clit, rubbing tight, filthy circles. “Come on my cock again while I fill you up. I want to feel you milk every drop.”
The second orgasm hit me like a freight train, ripping through me so hard my vision whited out and fresh tears slipped down my cheeks from the overwhelming mix of pleasure and the lingering ache between my legs.
Alexei thrust deep one last time and came with a savage groan, flooding my pussy with hot, thick spurts of cum. I felt every pulse, every jet filling me up and pushing out from where we were connected to soak the sheets beneath us. I knew my virgin blood mixed with it… exactly like he’d promised.
He stayed inside me long after, still hard, still owning me, his hand gentle now as he brushed damp hair from my face. His eyes were dark, possessive, almost tender in the most dangerous way as he looked down at the mess we’d made.
“Better than I could have ever imagined,” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to my swollen lips. “Perfection.”
My body throbbed and hummed with all the sensations coursing through me, the sticky warmth of my virginity and our combined orgasms cooling between my thighs.
I was his now. Completely. The dark thrill of it settled deep in my chest as his arms tightened around me like he’d never allow me to leave.