Page 12 of His for the Taking

I stared at both of them, realizing my need for Nina outweighed why my guards interrupted me. The entire time, I felt Nina trying to hide behind me, so I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her forward. The men cleared their throats and looked away.

“Sweet Nina?”

She glanced up at me, her expression pleading for me to give her a reprieve to cover herself. I smoothed her hair from her face, and for just a second, I felt that heat move through me again.

“Get on the bed.”

“Antonio,” she whispered. “Please. No.”

“Get on the bed like my good girl and spread your legs so my men can see what’s mine.” I turned to the guards, both of them looking shocked as they stared at me.

Nina was crying again as she moved toward the bed, but I chose to watch the other men’s gazes as they swept up and down her form.

She was beautiful. In every way.

When my wife was on the bed, I moved into the room and stood at the end of the mattress to stare at her. “Legs spread wider, sweetheart.”

Her expression showed she wanted to be free of her humiliation. She glanced at my men, who still stood in the suite's foyer.

“Don’t worry about them, darling. They aren’t your concern. You only need to worry about lying there looking beautiful and taking the hot load of cum I’m about to pump into all your holes.”

“Carlo. Vincent. Come in here,” I barked the order. I’m sure they were confused as fuck about what was happening, but they didn’t disobey me.

“Sir?” Vincent asked with hesitance in his voice.

“My wife needs to understand the family she married into. That means doing whatever I say, when I say it.” I gestured toward Nina and glanced at Carlo and Vincent. “Touch her. Make my wife feel good.”

She gasped, and I stared at her, unfazed. But with her hand over her mouth, her beautiful tears sliding down her cheeks, she was a sight for sure.

Vincent and Carlo took steps backward, their hands raised as if in surrender. “Sir,” they said in unison. “We don’t want to disrespect you. She’s yours.”

I felt that heat once again slam into me at the mention of Nina being mine.

She is, but that just means I can use her in any way I see fit.

“Are you disrespecting me and turning down my generosity?”

I watched the subtle, uncomfortable movements between the two men. The idea of them touching Nina seemed to turn me on way more than I expected, but it also filled me with a burning rage.

They were confused, and although they no doubt wanted to touch my pretty wife, they were conflicted because they knew I could kill them, even if they were obediently following my order.

“It’s not a trap, boys.” I stepped back and swung my arm out, showcasing Nina, who was still laid out like my perfect, good girl.

Vincent was the braver one as he moved forward. He was already hard, his little cock making a small tent of his black pants. The bed shifted as he placed his knee on the mattress and moved closer to Nina.

“Please, don’t,” my wife begged softly, but she didn’t jump off the bed or even move away. She knew that, in this situation, she’d have no hope in hell for salvation.

I moved over to the small desk by the window and sat down, my fingers smoothing over the polished wood, brushing over the silver letter opener sitting atop a monogrammed stack of paper.

Carlo stayed back, but he was hard, too, as we both now watched Vincent’s hand move closer to Nina’s thigh. Her legs were slightly spread, and he shifted direction and started going higher toward her still glistening cunt. But as the seconds ticked by and the closer he got, I suddenly felt a surge of rage and violence boils through my veins.

The very thought of Nina with any man other than me made the need to kill anyone and everyone rise within me.

Right when Vincent was about to touch her pussy, I curled my fingers around the handgun that was in the desk drawer—one of many I had stashed around the hotel suite. I grinned as I aimed.

Vincent turned to look in my direction at the sound of the hammer being cocked, and then he grunted, falling backward right off the bed, his blood splattered over the bed, the wall, and on my trembling wife.

I slowly rose, Carlo stepping back until he was now pressed against the bedroom door. With the letter opener gripped in my fist, I stepped up to Vincent’s corpse. He lay there, his gaze trained on me with lifeless eyes, the bullet hole centered between them.

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