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“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She explodes around me, reaching her peak, and the vice grip her cunt has on my cock makes me join her just a few thrusts behind. I orgasm, spilling into her until she can’t take anymore. I keep at her until she’s begging me to stop, her core too sensitive.
In time, I finally and reluctantly let up. Rolling over, I look up at the ceiling and let nothing but our breathing carry throughout the room.
When enough time passes, I move first. Standing, I head to the bathroom, grab a warm washcloth, and bring it back to her.
“Open your legs, Emelia.” Shakily, she does as she’s told. “Good girl.” Taking the towel, I go to clean her, but something more sinister comes over me.
Leaning down and placing my knuckles on the bed next to her head, I whisper, “Just so we’re clear, that act made you irrevocably mine. I will not share you. Ever. Make sure you never forget that.” I place two fingers on her thigh and collect the come dripping from her. I move slowly upward, then slide those fingers inside her. “Keep every damn drop of me inside your snug pussy where it belongs.”
I own Emelia, and I don’t care what she fights me on. She will learn to love it. She licks her lips as she watches the action and hears my words. I can see that storm brewing again, this little sex fiend. She’s nowhere near done. She wants more. So much more. But I won’t give it to her. Making her sit at the edge of her seat while we bicker will be the best foreplay for the next hate-fuck session we have.
“Not tonight. I have a lot to do tomorrow. Relax and let me clean you up.” I do just that, and when I finish, I go to the bathroom and shower.
Halfway through, I see her enter without saying a word to me. Emelia moves toward the bath and lifts the handle. As the water starts filling the tub, I watch as she looks at the salts I had brought in for her. Dumping in one that smells of lavender and honeysuckle, she climbs in, and once she's settled, she turns and looks out the floor-to-ceiling window at the city.
Keeping her eyes there, she doesn’t even peer over at me once. But I, however, can’t stop watching her, wondering what is going through her mind. Wiping the glass, I get a better look through the steamed-up shower.
“I promise to find the men who organized the shooting tonight. Is that what you’re worried about?” I ask, placing both palms against the glass and waiting for her to make eye contact with me.
“Yes, I don’t know what I was expecting. It’s not like I thought my life would suddenly be different and I’d be safe.” Emelia still peers out the window, laying her head back on the curved lip of the tub.
“It’s going to be the opposite, Emelia. You’re now going to be atmoreevents and social gatherings. You are the wife of a mafia king; your life is in significantly more danger. But I won’t let anyone hurt you. That is one thing I can guarantee. That’s why I have men with you all the time and insisted on the tracker.”
She goes to speak, but I stop her.
“I know you want to argue over the tracker, but tonight is not the night to do that. Okay? After today’s event, I could snap at any moment. Let’s not make this night end on a bad note.”
I don’t miss the way she rolls her eyes as she looks back at me.
“Damian would have never done this to me.”
There it is. I snap. Turning off the water and throwing open the shower door, I grab the towel. Wiping off my face in a haste, I tie the towel around my waist, and I tower over her.
“You will not speak his name in my house. You keep using him to get to me, and I will use him to get to you.”
“What does that mean?” she seethes.
“You know exactly what that fucking means, Emelia. You are a lot of things, but a stupid woman isn’t one of them.” I leave the room before I say worse. I’m already at my limit, and I need a place to blow off steam.
Looks like I’ll be sleeping in the other room. Being near her when she has the nerve to test me like that will lead to me being a madman on a mission.
I should have killed him. Sparing him just for her was pointless. Because now, I plan to kill him, and that will be the first fucking thing I do when I get back from our honeymoon. Sure, I could have one of my men do it, but I want to. It has to be me who sees his life end and his eyes go lifeless. That fucking son of a bitch.
Dressing fast, I leave the room, slamming the door so she knows just how much she angered me. The submissive is gone, and the pain in my ass has returned with a vengeance.
Got off just to be pissed off.
Stepping into the guest bedroom, I call Giulio.
“Sir?”
“I want a full run-up of Damian Fuccenli. Phone records included.”
“Will do. I’ll have it soon.”
“Good.” I end the call and lie on the bed. Looking up at the ceiling, I think of Emelia in the other room, still mad, but what’s worse is I’m thinking about the space between her legs.
What we just shared.
