Bought Mafia Bride by Mae Doyle
Natalia
Igasp at the intrusion of his cock slipping into my throat. He’s thick--thicker than I would have ever thought possible--and so hard that it doesn’t seem possible that this is part of his body. Even though I don’t know what I’m doing, it feels natural to run my hands up and down his shaft.
His bulb fills my mouth and I suck it, flicking my tongue over the tip. The water sprays on me from all sides, and even though I should be cold and embarrassed at what I’m doing, I’m not.
God help me, I like it.
“Open your mouth and relax your throat,” Dane says. His voice is a low rumble and I shiver when he speaks, forcing myself to do as he asks. It’s hard with the water flowing on me and his cock in my mouth to relax, but I do, then he presses down hard on the back of my head, his cock slipping farther into my throat.
I want to cry out at the sensation. I want to pull back from him and escape, it feels so foreign, but I don’t. Instead, I moan, my hands squeezing his shaft, working up and down it as I bob on his cock.
I’m too caught up in what I’m doing to wonder if this really feels good to him. How am I supposed to know what he likes?
The sensation of his fingers digging into the back of my scalp tells me my answer. Even though my knees are aching from the hard floor, when he growls out my name I can’t even try to ignore the low throbbing between my legs.
“Deeper, Natalia. You feel so good sucking my cock. Go deeper.” His voice fills me and I shiver at the sound of my name on his tongue. Never have I felt this way about a person saying my name.
I had no idea that someone’s voice could make me break out in goosebumps. Could make my nipples hard. Could make it so that I want to press my thighs together to reduce the throbbing growing there.
“Oh, fuck, you feel good.” He fists my hair and pulls back, almost coming free from my lips before he slams my head back down. As quickly as possible, I relax my throat, making sure that I can take all of him at once.
When he does it again I brace my hands on his thighs, my nails digging into his skin. I want to have some control here, or at least feel like I do. I have no idea if I’m strong enough to fight him, but I’m still willing to try. There’s no way for me to know how this is going to end up, but I’m going to find out.
“Don’t fight me,” he warns, but that’s who I am. I fight for what I want, and I still myself, my teeth barely sheathed by my lips, the feeling of sweat breaking out on my brow, which is ridiculous. I’m in the shower, for fuck’s sake, but I still feel like I’m sweaty from running a marathon.
“Why are you fighting me?” Dane’s voice sounds strangled now and even though I’m sure that he could hurt me--he could force me to relax and take in all of him if he wanted to really push it with me, he thrusts up into my mouth but he doesn’t hurt me. Reaching out, he takes me by the neck and squeezes, panting a little. “Take all of me. I want to see you drink down my cum.”
There’s a voice in the back of my head screaming at me because I’m not sure what I’m doing here, but every other part of me burns for him. I want Dane. I want him to crave my mouth on his cock, as ridiculous as that sounds. I’ve never done this before, never really thought about it, but I suddenly want to know what his cum tastes like.
I loosen my grip on his thighs and he jerks, his cock slipping farther down my throat. I gag a little then grip his base again, squeezing with one hand and working my way up and down it while I grab his balls and squeezes them. He lets out an appreciative moan.
“I knew that you could be my good girl, Natalia. But I also want you to be my whore.”
Shivers tear through my body, but instead of answering I focus on his cock, sucking it harder and moving faster on him. He moans, his fingers still pressing into the back of my head, but the touch there is lighter, somehow. It feels more loving than it did earlier.
“I’m going to cum,” he tells me, the pressure increasing on the back of my head.
Closing my eyes, I try to take a mental snapshot of all of this. I don’t want to forget what it was like to be on my knees in front of him, worshipping him. His cock is warm and thick in my mouth and it actually feels really good slipping in and out of me. I moan, coaxing him on, trying to push him over the edge.
And he explodes. “Natalia!” His voice fills the shower and I shiver as it passes over my body, digging my nails into his thigh to hold onto him. The throbbing between my legs has become almost unbearable and I do my best to ignore it even though desire beats in me like a drum.
His cock shudders in me and I feel his cum shoot into my mouth. Swallowing hard, I lick him clean, the taste something I’ve never had before. It’s delicious and sharp and I can’t help but moan a little as the flavor coats my tongue.
He grabs my wet hair and pulls me back.
I’m panting, my mouth hanging open, my jaw sore. But it’s a good sore. It’s painful but I don’t want to stop. My knees hurt from kneeling in front of him, but I suddenly realize that I don’t mind.
“Fuck, that felt good.” He reaches out and lightly caresses my chin and cheek. His fingers tremble a little as he touches me and I’m actually filled with a burst of excitement that I was able to make him feel like that. I can make him tremble, make him weak in the knees.
Never did I think that I’d have that type of power over anyone, especially not over a man as powerful as he is. He could dominate me easily and yet he’s being more careful with me than I ever would have thought someone like him would be. His hand is right there--just inches away from grabbing my neck--but he doesn’t.
Instead, he stands, grabbing me by the shoulders and pinning me up against the wall. Glancing down, I see his cock is hard again and he presses into me, the hard length slamming into my hip.
Swallowing hard, I force myself to look up at him. He’s breathing hard, his eyes dark like he’s not quite sure what he’s seeing in front of him. I should be terrified, and I know that. He’s dangerous. Powerful. Willing to kill anyone for getting in his way.
But I brought him to his knees. It was my name he called out when he lost control.
“Did you touch yourself the other night when you thought of me?” He sounds languid and relaxed, like a huge cat on the safari stretching out after a kill and big meal. “Does the very thought of me between your legs make you scream?”
When I don’t answer, he drops his hand between the two of us and I stiffen when I feel him touch me. At first, his fingers barely graze my clit, but it’s enough to make me pay attention. I’m wound so tightly right now that I honestly don’t think it would take much to push me over the edge. I can feel the cracks in my body already forming as I wait for something to break me into pieces.
“I want to know what you sound like when you come.” Now he sinks his fingers into me and I open my legs for him, letting out a soft moan. His fingers probe me, slipping in my wet, slowly teasing me as I sink my teeth into my lower lip and do my best to keep from looking at him.
If I don’t look at him then I can deny him doing this to me.
“I asked you a question, Natalia. Do you scream?” His fingers still and I immediately want to scream at him to keep touching me like that, to keep his fingers moving in and out of me but it feels like all sound has been locked in my throat. I can’t answer him, not when I feel myself trembling on the edge like this.
I just need him to push me over it, and then I’ll be able to speak. Until then, though, all of my words feel trapped in my mouth, locked away, and his fingers are the key.
“Shame.” Slowly, he pulls his fingers from me, circling my clit one more time before bringing them to his mouth and licking them. My eyes are wide as I watch him, watch the way the corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk as he tastes me. “Shame you won’t tell me the truth. If you want to cum now then you need to do it yourself.”
He takes a step back from me, the heat of his body immediately pulling away and leaving me cold. I shiver once and try to make sense of what he just told me.
“What?” My tongue unlocks enough for that one word and he smiles at me, shaking his head like I’m too stupid to get it. “No, please, I was close.”
“Do it yourself. I’m only interested in making you cum if you’re going to scream for me.” He turns away from me and washes up under the spray.
I can’t tear my eyes from him. He’s muscle wrapped in muscle, so strong that I couldn’t stop him from touching me, but he pulled away from me like it was the easiest thing that he’s ever done. My body screams for me to do what he said--to reach down and touch myself--but I can’t seem to make myself move.
I’m stuck in place and all I can do is stare at him. After rinsing off he turns off the water and grabs a towel, wrapping it around himself before finally turning to me.
“I can’t say that I’m not disappointed, Natalia,” he tells me, desire making his voice thick. “But I imagine that I’ll hear you screaming for me eventually.”
With that, he leaves. I’m dripping wet, suddenly freezing as the steam in the shower dissipates, and all I can do is watch as he walks away.
