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Most girls lost their virginity to a man who at least claimed to love them. Bobby did love her. There was a connection between them that was real. But Angelo, he had not made any claims of love. He had made claims of possession. She could still feel him inside her, even as Bobby tried to rut away his claim. No matter what she did, there would never be any escaping Angelo now. He was inside her forever.
“Not in her, boy,” Angelo cautioned, pulling Bobby away at the last moment before he reached climax. His come did not paint her body but was instead spilled on the carpet.
Finally, Mark. A man she did not truly know and with whom she could not pretend to have a love connection. She saw something like pain in his eyes as he lined himself up between her thighs and knew that it was not on her account he hurt. The last woman he had been with was one he had loved. Gemma was a poor substitute for Matilda Braybrooke, and she knew it.
But that did not stop the big, blond man, stripped to the waist and rippling like a football player, from driving his cock inside her with one powerful stroke, picking her up from the table, and bouncing her on his rod, his massive arms holding her aloft with ease.
“Little brat,” he purred in her ear as he used both hands against her soft ass to pull her up and down the length of his cock. If love made sex more intense, then longing and pain and domination made it almost unbearably hot. Gemma screamed out climaxes on his cock, one for each of the men who had fucked her.
It did not end there. They carried her from the dining room to Angelo’s bedroom and the carnal claiming continued. Her mouth was quickly filled with Angelo’s cock.
“Clean me, girl,” he commanded, making her taste her own juices and his come combined. It should have been a humiliating order, but it only made her tingle and become wet again, a fact Bobby took full advantage of for a second time, fucking her from behind as she worked her tongue and mouth over Angelo’s cock in the most subservient of ways…
“This ass is mine too,” Angelo growled, reaching over her body to slap her ass. “I believe my boy has trained you to take a cock here…”
“Oh god…” Gemma flushed hot again, but she was already being put into position on hands and knees, her ass presented to Angelo for his claim. The Vitali men were relentless in their taking of her, and yet she felt as safe as she felt claimed. When she had reached her breaking point and thought she had no place, Mark had come for her. And when she’d been criminally disobedient, Angelo had handled her. Bobby had never left her in any doubt he desired her.
Angelo pushed inside her ass, using mixed come as lubricant. Mark’s cock filled her mouth to stifle her whimpers as the master claimed the last of her holes. She’d never be able to look at Angelo again without remembering how it felt to have his thick cock inside her pussy, and inside her ass. This was no gentle introduction to intimacy, but could she ever have expected gentleness from them? No. She expected intensity and complete claim, and that was what she got.
Gemma woke up in a tangle of male limbs, rather sore and yet somehow free. She blushed furiously at the memories. Never had she imagined she would do such things. The acts she had performed were ones of intense submission and surrender to both their desires and her own.
Shyness overcame her as she slipped from the bed and hid in the shower. There was so much to wash off, layer after layer of intense male seed. She could clean herself all she liked. She’d never wash off what it really meant. She was theirs. Branded Vitali. Forever.
Chapter 13
Mark popped his head into Angelo’s drawing-room. “There’s somebody on the computer who wants to speak with you. Video call.”
“Oh? Who?”
“Calls himself Mr. Brown. I doubt that’s his real name.”
Angelo moved faster than he had in quite some time. If this was the man he thought it was, then he was getting a call from the spider at the center of the web of the strings he had been carefully plucking for some time.
Sure enough, when he sat down at his desk, he saw the dour, sensible face and thinning hair of a man who could only be British. Before any pleasantries could be exchanged, the man started in on his business.
“Mr. Vitali, you may call me Mr. Brown. I believe you have one of my employees in your possession.”
“Oh?”
“I believe you are aware of the nature of my employee and, therefore, my nature. I believe that means you present either a great threat or perhaps, a great opportunity.”
