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I could have lost her tonight. Before I ever got to taste her. Before I could have gotten to know if there was more to her than a woman with a need to drive me mad.
That’s all this is.
The way I'm feeling—there is no love. Not even an ounce. But there is lust. A very annoying hankering for her. The second I hear our bedroom door close, I stand, and she does too, our bodies moving of their own accord. We are riled up and aroused, and tonight, I will really make her my wife.
“Nico….” She trails off as her legs rub together.
“You have been getting under my skin. Driving me so goddamn mad with the way you test me. But I think it’s time you learn just what this does to me. Your lack of respecting me has taken my lust to its highest peak, Emelia.”
She gulps and slowly backs up as I take slow, measured steps toward her.
“I still hate you,” she admits, and my sly grin widens, showing her my teeth.
“I don’t have to love you to fuck you. We can hate each other all we want, but that just makes the sex better.”
“I hate you,” she repeats, but this is more of a promise, a declaration, a threat. The kind she wants to say repeatedly until it makes me snap and take her like a wild animal.
“I fucking hate you too, Emelia.” And with that, we collide, and I do meancollide. Our bodies slam together, and our lips connect. A mess of tongues, teeth, lips, and breath. Sucking and fucking one another’s mouth doesn’t even come close to explaining what this kiss is like.
“Oh God,” she moans into my mouth when I easily pick her up. I’ve always kept my physique in top form, so carrying her and controlling her body will be fucking effortless. She needs a real man who can do things only real men can. Take every inch of that gorgeous body and ravish it like the five-course meal it is.
“You don’t mind the weight?” she questions, wrapping her legs around my waist as I carry her to the bed.
“No, principessa, I fucking welcome it. And tonight, you’re going to let me mark it, bite the places where it dips and curves. You’re going to let me fuck this body made by the gods.”
Emelia doesn’t seem like the type to have ever let her body bother her. And that confidence is a bonus for me.
“Do whatever you want. Just make me feel good. Please.”
“Such a good girl. So fucking damaged. You need me, little mess, don’t you? Need this cock?”
“Fuck, yes,” she cries, grinding against me. I will learn something tonight, and that's if Emelia likes to be controlled in the bedroom.
“Then lie on the bed, open your slutty legs, and offer me your cunt.”
The whimper that escapes her lips… beautiful. So damn good. Who knew those lips could express anything other than defiance?
When I place her on her feet, she looks up at me, and I grab the bodice of her dress, where the swells of her breasts meet, and I yank, pulling it apart and down to her hips, exposing her body to me.
“No bra and no panties,” I growl. When the dress falls to the floor, she looks up at me, and there is a question in her eyes, one I can’t place. “What, Emelia?”
“Degrade me. Really make me feel like filth to you,” she states, knocking me on my fucking ass.
“You want to feel filthy? Why, baby?” I grab her chin, and I do it with force, my grip locking her into place.
“Because it makes me feel bad, which makes me feelso good. Are you not up for the task?” she challenges, and I tsk at her.
When I throw her down on the bed, she yelps, and I climb over her. Without warning, I jerk her legs apart and slam two fingers into her tight, wet center.
Holy shit, that’s going to feel incredible wrapped so tightly around my cock.
“This pussy is mine now. I will have it when I want and how I want, and you’re going to be a good little whore for your husband, aren’t you, Emelia?”
She doesn’t answer, and I flick her clit hard with my thumb.
She screams, “Yes. Oh God, yes!”
“God isn’t here, baby. It’s only your personal devil. Call me your boss.”
