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Her hands on my thighs tremble; she looks up through her lashes, a luscious curtain that briefly hides the anger and hatred usually seated in her eyes. Then her lips lift at one corner in that wry expression I am beginning to enjoy.
“Be afraid, Rio. I might bite it off.”
She sinks onto me before I can respond, taking me deep into her mouth and throat, and I can only groan as her hot wetness coats me, and the sensation of being licked and sucked destroys any rational thought.
I groan again as her tongue flicks the head of my cock, and my desire ratchets up toward incendiary.
Yes, I am afraid. I admit it, deep down inside.
I am afraid of what you are doing to me, Bianca Carlotti-Agosti.
But I will never say that out loud. Not to her. Not to anyone.
13
“Sometimes the person you want the most, is the person you’re best without.”
Unknown
Bianca
I work on instinct.I’ve never given head before. I don’t even know why I’m doing this so readily, so easily, as if I’ve done it a thousand times before. As if I can’t get enough of the guy.
As if I love him.
They say love and hate are closely entwined. Maybe that’s it? Whatever the reason, I can’t seem to help myself. My whole body is on fire with need. I’ve never felt anything like the urges that rise up and overwhelm me as I taste and suck on Rio’s rigid flesh.
This is my husband. Myhusband.
He forced me into marriage, and I don’t want to be here.
Icouldbite hard. Destroy his masculinity. At the very least, I could make him bleed so much that I may have the chance to run and hide from the monster I’ve just married.
He is aware of it, too. I see the knowledge in his eyes as he stares down at me, his fingers tangling in a jerky motion in my hair. I hear it in those insane-sounding groans and growls erupting from his chest and throat.
And therein lies the dilemma. I want to hurt him; I hate him for what he’s done. What heis. But in this moment, where he has made himself vulnerable and handed over that vulnerability to my keeping, something stays me.
I want this. I’ve never wanted this so much in my life.
I want his scent around me, on me, in me, as his desire rises to meet mine.
I want to taste his hot, salty flesh, not knowing who has been here before me. Not caring.
I am so wet between my legs I can feel the moisture seeping down to coat my thighs. I reach down a hand to explore, and my fingers slip and slide everywhere before finding and caressing my clit.
I arch my back, the twin sensations of my own hand and his hard flesh in my mouth almost too much to bear. As if he can sense how close I am to losing control, he suddenly stops the movement of my head with a firm hand and slides his cock out of my mouth. Then he lifts me up, right up, as if I’m made of mere feathers. Until I’m high enough to wrap my legs around his waist and my breasts mush against his firm chest.
“From now on, you do not touch yourself unless I say so,” he growls against my lips. “Your pussy ismine.”
He takes my mouth again, kissing me hard, and I release a gasp into him as his fingers reach around and dip into my seam from the rear. He slides up and down in my wetness. It feels different whenhetouches me there. So different.
I grind against his six-pack.
Then I jerk as he shifts his hand and smacks my ass cheek. Not gentle. Enough to leave a sting burning my flesh. He does it again, then he is back to my seam, dipping again into the wetness that I can’t seem to control.
Fuck. I want this. I wanthim. So. Much.
But why? How is my body betraying me like this? So fully and completely?
