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“Remove your dress,” he growled.
I shook my head, enjoying the moment of being able to defy him.
“Be careful, sweet wife, or I’ll be forced to punish you for your act of insolence. And I don’t think you want me to rip off the remainder of your clothes.”
A part of me wanted to continue being rebellious, to try to escape from him. Yet when he planted his hands on either side of me, leaning over until the tip of his throbbing cock was pressed against my chest, I realized I wasn’t going anywhere.
Even if I wanted to.
“Take. It. Off.”
His words were barely audible, the guttural sound reverberating in my ears. He grinned before pulling back, cocking his head and waiting until I complied with his command. I could tell he wasn’t a patient man. I eased the beautiful silk wrap dress over my shoulders, exposing the only clothing left, a matching bra to my blushing pink thong.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered as he wrapped his hand around his cock for a second time. As he pumped the base, he twisted his hand, and I couldn’t help but flick my finger across my lace-covered taut nipple in response.
“Don’t tease me, lovely wife. You won’t like me if you do.” I heard the taunting in his voice but there was also a subtle threat, the man obviously used to taking what he wanted. His way.
I continued toying with him, easing one bra strap over my shoulder then the other, rising to a full sitting position and dragging my tongue around my lips in a provocative manner.
The tendons in his neck tightened, the few curse words he issued ones of appreciation. When I finally lowered the lacey material, his upper lip curled again. “All mine.”
I wanted to hate his words of possession all over again, but they titillated me. I finally felt comfortable enough to free my body of the tight confines, a flush of embarrassment spiraling almost out of control from being naked and vulnerable around him.
He took another deep breath in appreciation before wrapping his hand around my throat, keeping me pinned down. “Goddamn, you are so beautiful.”
I felt beautiful for the first time in my life, my heart continuing to race as he rolled his hand up and down his cock, something I now wanted to do. I licked my lips in anticipation as his hold tightened, every nerve ending tickled by white-hot heat.
“Do you long to taste me, lovely wife?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a good girl?”
I laughed from the question. He truly didn’t know me at all. “Never.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He shifted his hand to the back of my head, fisting my hair then pulling me several inches forward until his thick cock was only an inch from my hungry mouth.
There was no need to demand me to lick, my tongue darting out involuntarily. The moment I dipped the tip through his pre-cum, I began to shake uncontrollably. The taste of him was sweet yet tangy, awakening my senses. Every facial muscle was strained, the way he was looking at me as if he wasn’t entirely certain whether to claim my skin with his cum or to fuck me like a crazed animal.
When he pushed the tip past my lips, I slipped my hand between his legs, cupping and squeezing his balls.
“Fuck, yes. Your mouth is so damn hot.”
As he thrust it deeper inside, I swirled my tongue back and forth, trying to relax my throat. He never blinked as he fucked my mouth, the tip finally hitting the back of my throat. He held me in position for a few seconds, my eyes watering as my jaw muscles stretched. There was no denying the longing that continued to build or the need to have his cock buried deep inside.
I was certain he would let go, forcing me to lip every drop of his sweet cream but he pulled out, stumbling backward, raking both his hands through his hair.
“Not like this. Not yet. But soon I will paint your skin with my cum, leaving you a sticky mess. But right now, I need to fuck that tight pussy of yours. Over and over again.”
CHAPTER 3
Daniel
For all Maria’s words of hatred, the look on her face as she licked her lips was anything but that of a woman who loathed the man she’d just married. Yet I did adore her rebellious attitude, the way her lower lip protruded when she was frustrated or flustered. I’d seen it a dozen times at the reception, her attempts at keeping her heated gaze off me amusing.
While I was the hunter of our newly formed family, somehow, she’d already managed to draw me into her lair. Maybe she was a black widow, and I was nothing but a tasty morsel.
My brother had attempted to tell me that behind every powerful man was a woman who really ran the show, her support and moments of comfort allowing beasts like us to engage in whatever ruthless activity was necessary more easily. I’d laughed at him, the words nothing more than trying to force me to accept this was in my best interest, not just that of our empire.
