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“Am I one of your mouths now?”
He puts the picture back. His hands come up along my sides and his thumb flits down my lower lip. “Olivia,” he says quietly, “what am I going to do with you?”
I breathe his smell and I don’t have an answer, because what can I say? There’s nothing to say, no words that can make this right. He comes closer, pulling me against him, and I release a pathetic whimper, half a moan and half a sob, and I don’t know if I want him to release me and end this misery or if I want him to drag me under, drown me, smother me, and keep me.
He kisses me hard, pulling me rough against him, a kiss so unlike the kiss outside in front of his family and my papa. I moan into his mouth and push myself tighter, it’s my wedding day, my wedding day, I’m the bride and I hate it. I wish I could rip this fucking dress off and throw it in the fire, but the woman in that photo wore this once upon a time when she married a different Don, and now I feel as though I’m her ghost, or she’s haunting me.
Casso pulls away, his eyes blazing, and takes my hand. He leads me roughly from the living room, down a short hall, and into the empty game room. I have to hold the skirts of my dress up to keep from tripping. He slams the door and locks it.
“What are you doing?” I ask, backing away until I run into the pool table, but it’s an act, a show, the words I’m expected to say. I know what this is, and I want it, god, I want it.
He doesn’t answer. He’s like a wolf, hunting. I smell alcohol and pine, and he hefts me up until I feel the soft green felt beneath my fingers. He pulls the skirt of my dress up and I gasp as he squeezes my ass and yanks me against him.
I answer his kiss with ecstasy. I bite his lip and groan into his mouth as his hand slips between my thighs. My wedding day, god, my wedding day. He teases me over my panties, and I should stop this, scream for help, scream until he pulls away, but I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t breathe, because it feels good, so goddamn good, like something I haven’t experienced in a very long time, and I’m moaning into his kiss, and I’m losing all sense of myself.
He flips my panties aside and I groan in utter bliss.
“You’re soaked,” he whispers in my ear as he teases my pussy. “God, Olivia. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? You want me to ruin you. Spread you apart, fill you to the brim, make you shiver and scream. And the fucked-up part is you really do hate me too. How do you keep everything straight?”
I don’t, I don’t, I can’t. All I say is, “Fuck you.”
He laughs and shoves me back and drops down between my knees.
My whole world stops as he gazes on my slick, naked pussy. I grab his hair tight as he grabs my hips and licks me, top to bottom, like he’s savoring my taste. I gasp in wild pleasure. “You’re mine now, Olivia,” he whispers and licks me again. “Every inch of you, mine. Your skin, your lips, your pussy. Your wild, yearning moans. All mine.” He licks me a third time, so slow, and focuses on my clit, spiraling his tongue around in circles. When I’m about to scream in pleasure, he peels my panties off and throws them on the floor and when I try to move, he shoves me back, pins me down on the pool table, and licks me again.
Oh my god.
He sucks my clit and growls as he does it like he’s feeding and feeding and can’t stop himself. He spreads me wide and shoves his tongue in deep before moving back to tease my clit into a million shining pieces. I moan, pull his hair, I’m on fire, my skin’s an inferno, I’m burning with lust and pleasure. I want to hurt him like he’s making me feel good. Bliss wrecks my mind and this is wrong, filthy, dirty, fucked up, a massive mistake, and I couldn’t care less.
It feels so good I think I might break.
His tongue is heaven. He licks and sucks me and slides two fingers inside my pussy as he rolls his mouth along my clit. I’m whimpering and moaning and panting, sweat rolls down between my breasts, and he looks up at me with utter delight as he presses his fingers in deep.
“I want you to come on your wedding day,” he whispers and kisses me. I taste myself on his tongue. “You deserve a little happiness, don’t you? Spread your legs, Olivia.”
