Page 41 of The Kingpin’s Bride

My mouth quirked.

I closed the diary and locked it again. The weight of it settled into my palm like another form of the leash.

“Cute,” I said. “You will write more tomorrow. Longer. More precise. If you want to tell me you hate me, you can be a bit more descriptive. Don’t you want to impress me? I’ll let you have such nice things if you do.”

I locked the diary and set it aside. The weight of it should have felt like victory. Instead it sat in my palm like something heavier.

I thought of my sister’s face the night she almost broke under Santino’s world, of Chiara’s silence after Leo took her, of the way both of them had looked at me when they realized I was choosing this seat anyway.

The comparison was inconvenient. I pushed it down and reached for the sealed tube of cream instead.

I risked a look at Morena. Those blue eyes. The soft full mouth. The way her long black hair fell over one shoulder in loose waves today. My cock stirred hard against my trousers at the simple sight of her sitting there in white, collared, waiting.

“The doctor provided this as part of the routine,” I explained, holding up the tube.“A topical cream. It increases blood flow and sensitivity while preparing the uterine environment. You will not apply it yourself. I will.”

Her eyes flickered with something between dread and excitement. I ignored it. “Undress for me. Lie back. Keep your eyes on me the entire time, I think that will be fun.”

I could tell she was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, Morena reached for the hem of the white top with hands that were not quite steady. The fabric rose over her ribs, her breasts, her shoulders. The ring stayed heavy on her finger. The white shorts followed until they pooled on the floor. She lay back against the sheets exactly as ordered, eyes open, body open, the discarded white clothes looking almost like a wedding dress left behind.

I stood there and looked at her. Long hair spread across the pillow. Blue eyes watching me with fear and something she couldn’t hide. Soft mouth parted. She was perfect enough that the cold part of me wanted to lock the door and never let another man see her again.

My cock was fully hard now. The sight of her like this, chained, open and naked for me , pulled a low heat through my entire body. I tried to crush the feeling the same way I always did.

I opened the tube. The cream was cool and faintly scented. I warmed a generous amount between my palms until it turned silky.

I started at her lower abdomen, just above the place the ultrasound wand had pressed. Slow firm circles. The cream absorbed into her skin leaving a subtle sheen. Her muscles tensed under my hands.

I worked lower over the soft curve of her hips, the faint bruises my fingers had left, the sensitive crease where thigh met body. Every stroke was deliberate. Purpose over pleasure. But the beauty of her under my hands made it harder to stay clinical. The soft warmth of her skin. The way she shivered when my palms passed over certain places. The quiet sound she made when I pressed a little deeper into the muscle.

When I reached the insides of her thighs I pushed them wider. I held her open with one hand and continued with the other, massaging the cream into the soft skin in long thorough strokes that climbed higher with each pass. Her breathing changed. A faint flush spread across her chest and up her neck. The sensitivity the doctor had promised was beginning.

My cock throbbed at the sight of that flush moving over her fair skin, at the way her blue eyes had gone a little unfocused.

I moved to the center of her without pause. Two fingers parted her still-swollen folds. “I hope you love every second of this.”

Her blue eyes were already glassy. I circled her clit with a cream-slick thumb and watched her try, and fail, to stay still.

“This is what you are now,” I continued, pushing one finger inside her just enough to coat the tight entrance. “A collared wife who comes on command and takes every drop I give her. I don’t care if you hate me. I only care that this perfect pussy stays open and full of me until you’re carrying my child.”

Morena made a broken sound. I added a second finger and scissored gently, spreading the cream deeper.

“Let’s do something fun,” I said, looking into those fearful blue eyes. “I) want you to repeat after me. Say it while I’m inside you. Say ‘Please get me ready for your cock, Matteo.’”

She bit her bottom lip. “Please… please get me ready for your cock, Matteo.”

“Good girl.” I rewarded her with firmer pressure on her clit. “When I fuck you in a minute you’re going to come at least twice before I fill you. And you’re going to thank me for every single orgasm. Understand that?”

“…Yes.”

“Louder.”

“Yes, Matteo,” she gritted out.

I leaned down until my mouth was against her ear, still working two slick fingers inside her. “You’re already dripping for me and I’ve barely started. Listen carefully, Rena. I’m going to fuck this cream deeper into you. I’m going to make you come on my cock until you can’t speak in full sentences. And when I finally empty myself inside you, you’re going to keep every drop right where it belongs. No cleaning up. No wiping it away. You’re going to feel me leaking out of you for the rest of the night and know exactly who owns you now.”

Her hips jerked. I curled my fingers and pressed against the spot that made her gasp. “Tell me you understand, baby.”

“I understand,” she whispered.