AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She does as I command. I watch, deeply satisfied. It scratches a primal itch to see her tied up and plugged exactly the way I put her, following orders.
My good fucking girl.
When my cock feels ready again, I slap it against her cunt, causing her eyes to widen sharply. “Yeah, I’m going to fuck you again. Keep working on your pussy with that vibe.”
I groan as I push myself inside her. I love knowing that I’m stretching her, that she’s already slick with my cum. She’s mine. I will never get tired of claiming her.
Moving my hand to Ava’s neck, I fuck her until I can tell she’s close to climax. Then I pull the panties out of her mouth so she can speak.
“You ask permission when you’re ready to come, understand, Ava?”
“Y-yes,” she says desperately, her face screwed up with pleasure. “Alessandro, I’m close…”
“What do you say?” I growl. “What do you say when you want to come?”
Hermuscles start to clench. “I… I… Alessandro…Please…”
“Beg me for it,” I taunt, thrusting towards my own release. I want her to submit to me even more.
She pouts, looking away, but she doesn’t stop with the vibrator.
“I’ll take it away,” I warn, grabbing the toy so she can’t use it. “You come when I give you permission, and not before.”
“Please,”she gasps, finally making eye contact. Her voice is almost a moan, barely controlled. “Please, fucking please, I need to come...”
“Come for me, my good girl,” I groan, getting closer and closer myself. “Oh fuck, Ava, you can come for me now.”
She sighs, her pussy clenching around me, and that brings me past the point of no return. I slump forward, body pressing down onto her, releasing myself inside her for the second time today.
“You always need permission to come with me now,” I breathe into her ear, my voice hoarse. “Do you understand, baby?”
A pause, and then a shaky breath. “Yes, sir,” my wife whispers.
“Good girl,” I praise her, burying my face in her neck.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ava
Alessandro doesn’t shed a single tear at his grandfather’s funeral. He watches with cold, emotionless eyes as they lower the casket into the ground.
“Ladies and gentlemen, friends, family members—today we bid farewell to a man whose life was truly a testament to the strength of the human spirit, and to its complexity.”
My husband’s face doesn’t so much as twitch as the priest’s words wash over him. He’s been like this all day—cold. Like he’s willing himself not to feel.
“Nazzaro Rossi was a man who made his mark on the world. He was loved by his family, trusted and respected by his associates. Bysome, he was even feared. He cared greatly for his legacy, a legacy which continues to this day.”
At last, Alessandro reacts. Almost nothing, a tremor of his eyelid, a stiffening of his posture. I reach out, offering my hand for him to take. He stares at it for a moment, as though in confusion, before interlocking his fingers with mine. Almost like he’s reluctant.
“Nazzaro’s life was not without hardship. 15 years ago, he experienced the tragic loss of his son, Anthony, and his daughter-in-law, Julia.”
Alessandro squeezes my hand, staring forward, face blank. A rush of emotion comes over me as I realize the priest must be talking about his parents. I never knew about that. He would have been a teenager when it happened.
“But even in that loss, there was light. Nazzaro took in the couple’s only child, his grandson Alessandro, and raised him as though he was his own. I believe Nazzaro’s true character can be seen in the love he showed for that child. I am told that in the final months of his life, nothing filled his heart more than the fact that the two of them had grown closer.”
I look over at my husband, and there’s not a hint of emotion on his face. He doesn’t look back.
We don’t talk much after the funeral. He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t want to interrupt his space. We drive home in silence, several trays of baked ziti made by his associates’ wives sitting in the backseat.
