Chapter 6 #2
He doesn’t pause. He shoulders open the door to a vast, dark bedroom and kicks it shut behind us. In the next heartbeat, he has me pinned against the heavy wood, his body a solid wall of heat pressing into me. His mouth finds mine in a searing kiss, all possession and promise.
His hands work at the remaining closures of my dress. With a final tug, the heavy fabric gives way, slumping to the floor in a whisper of satin and lace. I stand before him in just my torn stockings, the corset, and the memory of his touch. The air is cool on my bare skin, raising goosebumps.
He takes a half-step back. His eyes travel over me, a slow, scorching caress from my flushed face, down my trembling body, to my toes. The intensity of his gaze makes me feel more exposed than being naked. He drags in a deep, ragged breath.
“Christ,” he whispers, the word full of reverence. “You are… breathtakingly beautiful, Rosalina. My wife.”
A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the cold.
He cups my cheek, his thumb stroking my bottom lip. His dark eyes hold mine, fierce and unwavering. “Are you ready for me now?”
The question hangs in the air, heavy with meaning. It’s not just about my body. It’s about surrender. My throat is dry, but my voice is steady. “Yes.”
A slow, predatory smile touches his lips.
“Good girl.” He leans in, his lips brushing my ear.
“Such an obedient, perfect wife. You take my touch so beautifully. Now I want to see you.” He nods toward the massive bed behind him.
“On the bed. On your back. Touch yourself for me. Show me how ready you are.”
My heart stutters. No one has ever seen me do that. The idea is terrifying, deeply private. But under his heated gaze, a command woven with praise, my nervousness melts into a throbbing, liquid heat. I want to please him. I want to be his good girl.
I move on shaky legs to the bed, the silk coverlet cool beneath me. I lean back on my elbows, feeling impossibly vulnerable. Dante stands at the foot of the bed, a dark silhouette, and begins to slowly, deliberately, remove his suit jacket. He tosses it aside, his eyes never leaving mine.
My hand drifts down my stomach. I close my eyes for a second, then force them open, keeping them locked on his. My fingertips brush through the slickness between my legs, and a soft gasp escapes me. I circle my clit, the touch electric and foreign under his watch.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, unbuttoning his shirt. “Look at you. So innocent, so desperate. Doing exactly as I asked.” He pulls his shirt off, revealing the muscular planes of his chest and abdomen. My breath catches.
He undoes his belt, the buckle clinking softly. As he pushes his trousers and briefs down, his cock springs free, and I gasp again, my hand stilling. It’s thick, veined, and impossibly large, jutting proudly from his body. The tip is flushed and wet.
“You see?” he says, a dark amusement in his voice. “You weren’t ready for this in the car.” He steps out of his pants and I see a distinct, dark wet stain on the fine fabric. He follows my gaze and laughs, a low, rough sound. “Dirty girl. Look what you did to me just from rubbing against me.”
The shameful thrill of it makes my core clench. He walks to a nightstand, pulls out a small bottle, and coats his length with clear lube, stroking himself slowly. The sight is obscene and mesmerizing.
He comes to the bed, spreading my legs with his knees. He hovers over me, the broad head of his cock nudging against my soaked, sensitive folds. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it. Please, Dante. I need you.”
In one swift move, Dante’s hands grip my thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls me forcefully to the edge of the bed.
My breath hitches as the silken sheets slide beneath me, the cool air brushing against my exposed skin.
My hips are now perfectly aligned with his, and I can feel the heat of him radiating just inches away.
His eyes burn into mine, dark and possessive, as if he’s already claimed every part of me.
“God, look at you,” he growls, his voice low and rough with desire.
“Pulled right where I want you, just for me. My wife, my good girl.” His hands slide up my thighs, pushing them wider apart, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan.
The way he looks at me—like I’m something precious yet entirely his to devour—sends a shiver down my spine.
“You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the slickness between my legs. I nod frantically, my body trembling with need. He smirks, a wicked curve of his lips that makes my heart race. “Say it, Rosalina. Tell me how badly you want me.”
“I—I want you,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “Please, Dante.”
He leans down, his breath hot against my ear. “Good girl. You’re perfect like this. So obedient, so desperate for me.” His words coil tightly in my stomach, igniting a fire that only he can quench.
As he straightens, his gaze never leaves mine, and I know he’s savoring every second of my vulnerability. Every second of my surrender.
“So fucking beautiful,” he rumbles as my pussy clenches around nothing. I’m absolutely drenched for him.
He closes the small gap between us, and when I feel his bulbous tip against my clit, slowly dragging through my wetness, my entire body trembles. “Don’t make me wait.”
“Patience, Rosalina. I’ll give you what you need, but I intend to take my fucking time as I devour every goddamn inch of you.”
Fuck yes. His cock twitches against my clit, and my eyes roll back as he slowly drags back toward my entrance.
My body shakes with anticipation, every nerve alight with a desperate, clawing need.
He keeps me on the edge, teasing and tormenting me with a silent promise of just how thoroughly he’s about to claim me, and when I feel his tip press against my virgin entrance, a sharp gasp escapes my lips.
“Shh, my good girl,” Dante murmurs, his voice low and thick with restraint.
“You’re so tight for me. So perfect.” I can feel the burn already, but it’s dulled by the way my body feels like jelly, utterly spent from the three times he’s already made me come.
My pussy throbs in response, slick and swollen, and I tilt my hips instinctively, seeking more of him.
He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping my thighs tighter.
“Eager little wife, aren’t you?” he rasps, and I nod, my breath hitching as he presses forward again.
The stretch is intense, a searing ache that makes me whimper, but it’s laced with the sweetest kind of pain—the kind that only he can give me.
“That’s it,” he coaxes, his voice a rough whisper. “Take it for me, Rosalina. You’re doing so well. Just relax, good girl.” His praise wraps around me like a warm blanket, and I focus on his words, on the way his eyes never leave mine as he slowly, oh so slowly, breaches me for the first time.
The burn flares bright, but it’s tempered by the liquid heat pooling in my core, the way my body is already so primed for him. By the way I’m his, completely and utterly. My nails dig into his shoulders as I gasp for air.
“Look at you,” he says, his voice trembling with reverence. “Mine. All mine.”
“Inch by fucking inch,” he tells me, slowly pushing inside, taking me one inch at a time.
“More,” I pant, desperately trying to push back against him, to impale myself on that thick cock, but he holds me too tight, having complete control.
“Ready for two?”
“Please.”
Dante inches in more, taking me slightly deeper, and though he’s barely inside me, I already feel myself beginning to stretch around him.
My body trembles, my breath catching in my throat as a sharp, unfamiliar burn sparks where we’re joined.
This is it—my first time. I’m his completely now, a realization that sends both a thrill and a wave of nervousness through me.
“Dante. Now,” I whimper, my voice trembling with need and the faintest edge of fear.
He doesn’t rush. Instead, his thumb finds my clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that immediately soothe the ache.
The sensations collide—the sting of my virgin body yielding to him and the sweet, electric pleasure from his touch.
My pussy pulses around him already craving more.
“That’s it, Rosalina,” he murmurs, his voice thick with praise.
“You’re taking me so well, my good girl. You’re perfect.”
His words and his thumb work in tandem, easing the pain and stoking the fire in my core.
My hips instinctively push toward him, seeking both relief and more of his touch.
“It’s okay, my wife,” he says softly, his lips brushing against mine.
“I’ll take care of you. Just relax for me.
” And I do, because I trust him completely.
My body softens, surrendering to the mix of pain and pleasure, the knowledge that I’m his forever pushing me over the edge even before he’s fully inside.
His palm cracks against my outer thigh, a sharp, stinging slap, and I suck in a loud gasp, my pussy tingling as wave after wave of undiluted pleasure rocks through me. “What did I tell you about being patient?” he growls.
Holy hell. I’ve never felt so alive. When he gives me a third inch, my pussy spasms around him, stretching to accommodate his sheer size. “Fuck!” I cry. A fourth inch. A fifth. My thighs begin to shake.
Dante groans. “How much more can you take?”
“All of it,” I breathe.
“Six?”
“Yes.”
He inches deeper, and when his cock twitches inside of me, it fucking destroys me. My chest heaves. I reach up, gripping his powerful biceps, white-knuckling it as he gives me a seventh inch. “Oh God,” I groan.
He rocks back a little, giving me just a moment of respite before he pushes back in, giving me eight and then nine, his fingers tightening on my hip. “Fuck, baby. You take me so well,” he murmurs. “Do you have any idea how fucking good you look taking my cock?”