AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“But you said—” I’m on the verge of pouting, and I think he can see it, because he smirks down at me, his hand going to the button of his trousers.
“Oh, I’m going to take your virginity tonight, Gianna. But it will be tonight. After you take a long bath and then eat dinner—allof it—” he adds sternly. “And then I will take you to bed, and we’ll do this properly. First, though—”
He sucks in a breath as he frees his thick, rigid cock, leaning down to scoop my panties off of the floor. “First, I need to come. I won’t last long tonight, not as worked up as you’ve gotten me.”
I start to lean up, to reach for him, and Alessio shakes his head. “Not yet,dolce,” he murmurs. “I just want you to watch. One more lesson for my good girl.”
His hand wraps around his cock, stroking in long, sure movements as he sets the panties aside for a moment on the coffee table. I watch as he raises the fingers he used to get me off to his lips, licking my taste off of them as he groans. “I can’t wait to taste you tonight,” he murmurs, his hand moving faster over his cock. “You’re so fucking beautiful,tesoro.”His gaze slides over me; his voice is husky and thick with lust. “So fucking perfect.”
Helooks gorgeous, kneeling above me, his long-fingered hand wrapped around his thick, pulsing cock, the veins standing out as he strokes more quickly. “Look at you,” he breathes. “My perfect wife. My sweet girl.”
Alessio’s voice catches, and he grabs the panties, holding them in front of his cock in his left hand as his hips cant forward, thrusting into his fist as he groans. “Watch me come for you,” he growls, his cockhead flaring as he presses his thumb below the tip, his hand moving quickly now, angling his cock down towards the silky fabric. “Watch me fill these wet panties up with my—fucking—cum—”
He lets out a groan, his face tightening as the cum spurts from his cock, splashing onto my panties as his cock swells and throbs. I watch in fascination, my hand twitching, nearly straying back to rub myself again until I remember what he said earlier, and I catch myself just in time. I’m aching all over again, dripping wet as I watch him come, the sight in front of me so utterly filthy and arousing all at once. I watch him press the fabric to his still-spurting tip, groaning as he rubs it over the swollen flesh, jerking his cock into my panties for a few more strokes before he motions for me to stand up.
When I do, he turns, gently slipping the panties back up my legs, the fabric settling on my hips. I shiver and moan when I feel the warmth of the cum-soaked fabric between my thighs, and I see Alessio’s half-hard cock twitch again at the sound.
“You’re going to wear these upstairs,” he says, gently patting between my thighs. “And when you’re upstairs, I want you to lay down, and make yourself come again—but you can only touch outside the fabric. Is that understood?”
I nod.
“I’ll know if you don’t obey me,” he says sternly. “I want you to come wearing these, and then take them off. Take a long bath, and get dressed for dinner. Meet me downstairs at eight. Is that understood?”
I nod again, my skin flushed. My nipples are hard, my skin aching with desire, and all I can think about is his cum touching my skin and what he’s told me to do. I feel like I’m in a dream as I go upstairs, a kind of foggy haze that wraps itself around me and makes me feel dizzy with desire, curiosity, and anticipation, all tangled together in a delicious mess of emotion.
Alessio said he’d know if I didn’t obey, but I can’t think of any reason why I wouldn’t. Even though he made me come with his fingers, I’m still aching by the time I reach my room—and it’s more than that. Iwantto obey him. I want to please him. I want to be a good girl for him, and he’s given me very clear instructions on how to do precisely that.
Instructions I’m dying to carry out.
I strip off my clothes the minute I’m in my room with the door closed, with none of the slowness that Alessio insisted on, down to my panties. My skin flushes with a thrilling kind of embarrassment as I stretch out nearly nude atop my bed, reaching down between my thighs to touch the damp fabric there.
It’s still faintly warm against my fingertips, and I shiver, arousal fizzing through my blood all over again. I can still see Alessio with my panties in his hand, his fingers wrapped around his cock, forearm flexing as he stroked himself urgently, the evidence of his pleasure soaking the fabric currently between my legs. Reflexively, I push my finger against it, nudging it between my folds, up against my clit. His cum, warm against my skin.
The moan that slips out of me is involuntary, filling the air, my hips twitching up to meet my hand. I’m still so sensitive, even after what happened downstairs—maybe more so because of it. The friction of the fabric against my clit feels different than my bare fingertip, but it feelsgood, amplified by the utter filthiness of what Alessio told me to do. I replay the scene over and over in my head as I circle my finger around my clit, urging that building sensation higher, imagining that he’s coming on me instead of my panties, his cum splashing over my skin, my pussy, my clit—
I let out another soft, keening moan at the thought, my hips bucking up, my finger rubbing now instead of circling, back and forth over the tight, hard bud of flesh where all of the pleasure is centered. It feels so good, sodirty—but I’m being a good girl for Alessio, I remind myself. His good girl, pleasuring myself just the way he told me to.
That’s what sends me over the edge. I clap my other hand over my mouth to muffle the high-pitched cry of pleasure as my entire body tightens, shuddering with another orgasm as I rub the cum-soaked fabric into my clit, two of my fingers sliding down to push it against my entrance, grinding against the sensation and the thought of his cum all over me. The fabric is soaked all over again, drenched with my arousal, and I twist and moan on the bed, wanting every last bit of pleasure I can draw out of the orgasm as I come on my fingers.
Afterward, I lay there, gasping, feeling so liquid and boneless that I’m not even sure I can get up to shower. I have to—but I lay there a little longer, luxuriating in the feeling between my thighs, before sliding the panties off and setting them aside.
An hour and a half later, I’m ready for dinner—dressed in one of the floaty maxi dresses that Alessio is used to seeing me in, this one black chiffon with huge, lush pink and burgundy flowers printed on it. I slip on a pair of garnet studs, leaving my hair loose around my shoulders and putting on just the lightest bit of makeup. I hesitate for a moment, fingers hovering over my assortment of lip stains and lipsticks, and then I reach for a deep garnet shade to match my earrings.
If Alessio wants me to use my mouth on him later, I like the idea of leaving some of my lipstick behind.
He’s at the dining room table when I come downstairs, a decanter of wine already between our plates, and he’s sipping at a long-stemmed glass of red. My breath catches a little when I see him, and it almost feels like a dream.
I’ve wanted him for so long, and now—now I think I’m finally going to get what I want. Alessio as my husband—in every way.
He looks so handsome sitting there, wearing dark grey chinos and a black t-shirt, his dark hair swept back away from his face, the glass of wine in his hand. When he turns and sees me, his green eyes filling with a heat I’m beginning to recognize, my heart flutters in my chest.
“I had the kitchen make your favorite dinner.” Alessio gestures to the chair next to him. “You’ve been picking at your food for a long time, Gianna. You don’t have to stuff yourself—in fact, it’s probably better that you don’t—but you do need to eat a meal.” His expression softens as I come to sit next to him, and he reaches out, touching my hand gently. “You said that you like that I protect you and take care of you. I intend to keep doing that. But you will need to be a good girl and obey me. And if this truly is the dynamic that you want—there will be consequences if you don’t.”
His gaze is still kind as he says it, and I feel my heart flutter again in my chest, nervous anticipation flooding me. “What if I disobey because Iwantto be punished?” I whisper, and I see that twitch at the corner of Alessio’s mouth, his fingers flexing around the stem of his glass.
“Then you’ll still be punished,” he murmurs, his voice huskier than before, and I can tell that the idea has some appeal for him, too. “But I can’t stop you from enjoying it, Gianna.”
There’s always been tension between us, from the very first day he arrived back in Chicago. But tonight, as I eat my dinner with some actual interest for the first time in weeks, the tension is so thick that it feels palpable. I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen when we go upstairs, but I have some ideas. The anticipation fizzes through my blood, making my fingers tremble on my fork as I eat.
