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44
Nicole
Three Days Later
“Perfect mixture of pain and pleasure.”
Ipush open the big wooden doors to his study, he has been in here for fucking hours, and honestly, I can’t take it anymore. I can’t fucking take it. I am becoming more unsteady, more unhinged. He is gentle and kind, and it is a fucking mask. Of course, he is all those things, but I need him to be him. I need him to stop trying to fucking protect me from himself. I see it in his eyes. He is holding back. He is trying to treat me like I am a fucking glass doll that can shatter with a single fucking touch. I will show him that I am not as fucking fragile as he thinks I am. I will show him that I can handle his fucking monster. He thinks he can control his monster. He thinks he can stop himself from punishing me. Well, I am here to show him just how wrong he fucking is.
I storm into the office, and I see him at his desk, making my pussy get wet and my mouth water. He is wearing no shirt, showing off all of his tattoos and scars. He is so fucking gorgeous. He is leaning over his desk typing something on his laptop; it looks like it might be something important, good, fucking good.
I stop at the front of his desk. I reach out and grab tightly onto the laptop, taking it away from him. He slowly looks up at me as I lift and throw the laptop at the wall behind his head. He doesn’t move a fucking inch as I lean over and start fucking grabbing everything I can on his desk, breaking every single fucking thing I get my hands on. The desk that was perfectly neat a second ago is completely fucking bare now. The items that were put together on the desk are now broken pieces on the ground, along with his expensive laptop.
I slam my hands down onto the desk as I lean in. My eyes lock with his, and my breathing is rapid and unsteady. My heart is racing, and a small smile forms across my face. “I need you to fuck me,” I whisper.
He leans back in his chair and rests his elbow on the armrest as his fingertips run over his lips. I wonder if he has any idea that he does that, that when he is trying to control himself or think, his fingertips always run over his lips, and it is sexy as all fuck. “Excuse me,” he replies softly.
“I need you to fuck me, Christian,” I repeat, looking him in the eyes.
He shakes his head slowly at me but doesn’t respond. It has to be so fucking hard for him to hold back with me, be gentle with me. It is time he fucking lets go. He wants me to let go. He needs to fucking let go.
“Fuck me the way you want to fuck me,” I whisper in a low sexy voice.
He inhales deeply and slowly lets it out. “Bellissimo, you can’t handle the mostro inside me, not yet,” he replies softly, making my pussy pulse with his tone.
My eyes narrow on him, and my heart races more with his words. I have been learning his language. I know what he is saying, I learn fucking quick, and I want the monster.
“Sei il mio mostro,” I whisper to him.
I watch a smile start to form across his beautiful fucking lips as he shakes his head at me.
“Fine,” I yell, standing up straight. My hands go up in the air as my breathing increases, and he lowers his fingers from his lips.
“Fine, what?” He asks, searching my eyes, making me smile. If he doesn’t want to give me the fucking monster willingly, I will fucking force his monster to come out.
“If you won’t fuck me, I know there are plenty of men in this house that would,” I say calmly and softly, lowering my hands to my sides. It probably is not wise to push him, but I fucking need to. I need him to punish me, to make me scream his name. I need to feel the pain mixed with the pleasure, and I know he is the only one who can give me what I want. He is the only man I want, but if pushing him this way will give me him, all of him, then so fucking be it.
I quickly turn around and promptly start making my way to the door. I hear him get up. I stop and turn and look at him. He grabs onto his desk and throws it against the wall, and another smile forms across my lips.
There he is.
My smile widens as he wastes no time closing the distance between us. He rushes into me, his body touching mine, forcing me to back up into the door.
His breathing is rapid and unsteady as his eyes search mine. “Don’t mistake my gentleness and need for you for weakness, Nicolette,”he warns me.
“Fuck me, Christian, or I will find someone that will,” I whisper back, needing to push him just a little bit more.
“You are not a whore, Nicolette. You are an extension of me,” he confesses, making my heart ache, but I will not back down. I will fucking push and fucking push until he finally fucking let’s go.
“Show me,” I whisper, so fucking quietly I can barely hear myself speak.
His eyes rapidly search mine. He rests his hands against the door by my head. His breathing is rapid and unsteady.
“If you let anyone else fuck you, Nicolette, I will cut off his lips for tasting you, I will cut off his hands for touching you, I will cut out his eyes for even fucking looking at you, I will cut off his ears for hearing your moan and cuff off his dick for filling your pussy,” he whispers leaning in his lips almost touching mine, his words making my pussy wet and pulse.
“Taste me, Christian. Touch me, Christian. Look at me, Christian. Listen to my moans you create, Christian. Fill my pulsing pussy with your hard dick,” I confess to him. My voice is filled with desire, passion, and pure fucking rage.
He lowers his hands from the door and grabs tightly onto my hips. He leans in, smashing his lips to mine, making my eyes close and roll back into the back of my head. His hands release my hips, and he rips apart my clothes, tearing them from my body.
