Arranged Mafia Marriage

Theresa

I expect the kiss to be hard, possessive, almost punishing. Instead, he presses his lips to mine and holds them there. Softness. Tenderness. He nibbles on my lower lip and my entire body shudders. He cups my cheek as he licks my lips.

“The taste of you and me combined drives me mad,” his voice rumbles up his chest. Pinpricks of pleasure set off from the point of contact between my nipples and his hard chest planes. A whine bleeds from my lips and he presses his lips to mine in a hard kiss this time, before he pulls back.

I sway toward him, and he rights me with a grip on my shoulder.

“Okay?” he asks.

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. Am I okay? No, I am not. I just let him fuck my mouth, and I didn’t try to stop him. Oh, I may have made a few token protests, but face it, I wanted him. Wanted his hands on me, his lips on mine, his breath combining with mine, his tongue inside my mouth, his cock stuffed inside my pussy. My core clenches.

A slow smile curves his lips. “If I touch you, will I find you wet?”All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“You know you will,” I grumble.

“Good.” He pushes the hair off of my face, then straightens the collar of my dress. “Good night, Theresa.” Turning, he ambles up the corridor and turns into his room.

Huh?

I stand there, blinking rapidly, not quite computing what just happened. My pussy spasms and that emptiness in my lower belly beckons. Hell, no. He didn’t just walk away without making me come, did he? He shuts the door behind him. What the hell? I walk toward the door, push it open and step inside. He’s already thrown off his jacket and is about to yank his Henley over his head. As I watch, he pulls it off and tosses it aside, then turns to me, “Do you want something?”

“You…you…left me out there.”

He tilts his head.

“I…you…I didn’t…”

“I didn’t get you off?”

I nod.

“I did so twice earlier,” he raises a shoulder.

“Argh,” I throw up my hands, “that doesn’t count, and you know it.”

“Too bad, it’s best we keep our distance until the wedding now.”

“Excuse me?” I gape as he reaches for his belt. He unhooks it, then the button on the waistband of his pants, then lowers his zipper. Before I can say anything more, he shoves down his pants and kicks them aside. His dick jumps free. Thick and long, it points upward and lays against his lower belly.

What the hell? He’s hard again? And of course, he doesn’t wear boxers. I mean, I’ve never seen him wear boxers. Maybe he didn’t buy any boxers? I mean, maybe whoever bought him the other clothes forgot to buy him boxers? Makes it easy for him to whip out his dick with minimal fuss. A chuckle wells up and I swallow it down.

He arches an eyebrow, “Something funny, Sunshine?”

I shake my head.

He reaches for his cock and pumps it once. I feel the tug all the way to my core. My toes curl. My mouth waters. Even from this distance, I can see the moisture glisten on the crown of that monster shaft.

He squeezes the base of his shaft and watches me, as if waiting to see what I’ll do next. When I don’t move, he drags his fingers up the length.

A moan bubbles up my throat. Shit, shit, shit, if I stay here, I am likely to fling myself at him again, this time, with the hope of riding his cock.

And yet I can’t drag my gaze off his crotch. Or how his biceps flex each time he swipes his fingers up his shaft. His balls seem to grow thicker, heavier, larger. His thigh muscles ripple.

“Sunshine,” he says in a low voice, “either get in here and get me off, or leave.”

“Wait, what?” I tip my chin up, “What do you mean, get you off? Don’t you want to-”

“Fuck you?”

I nod.

“Nah,” his lips twist, “gonna wait until we’re married now, remember?”

“B…but…but…” I squeeze my thighs together. “I don’t wanna wait,” I whine.

“I know,” he chuckles, “that’s the general idea.”

“So, you did all that earlier,” I stab my thumb over my shoulder, “to-”

“To turn you on.”

“But you won’t let me come.”

“Nope,” he makes a popping sound with his lips. Of course, my gaze darts to his mouth. His gorgeous mouth. His plush, puffy mouth, which he used to bring me to orgasm earlier.

“You got me off earlier. What’s changed now?”

“What’s changed is that I realized it’s only a few days until we are to get married and I think it’s important we spend that time apart.”

“You do?” I pout.

He begins to pump himself harder, and I watch in fascination as his dick gets bigger. I swear, it gets thicker and longer and so hard that the head is almost purple. Moisture pools between my legs and I reach for the waistband of my skirt. I slide my fingers inside and toward my clit when.

“Stop,” he orders, “you will not touch yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” his lips turn up in a wide smile, “you will not come until I give you permission!”

“What?” I laugh, “Who are you to command when I come?”

“Your soon-to-be husband,” he says in a harsh voice. He pumps himself with such ferocity that his muscles bugle, his chest planes flex, and his entire body is wound so tightly, I am sure he’s going to come any moment. I need to leave; I do. I need to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. I try to move, but my feet seem to be stuck to the floor. His gaze holds mine. The skin around his eyes crinkles, sweat beads his forehead, and his features contort as, with a grunt, he comes. My heart slams into my chest and my pussy clenches in on itself. Fuck, that was hot, so hot. When my foot hits the ground, I realize I have taken a step forward. That’s when one side of his lips kicks up.

Asshole. That entire performance was for my benefit. He wanted me to be turned on. He wanted me to see what I was missing. Jerk. Stronzo.

Xander would have never done this. He wouldn’t have treated me like I was a piece of merchandise, like his possession to do with whatever he wanted. He would have never been mean to me.

And he didn’t care enough about you to even try to kiss you.

It’s that thought that finally snaps me out of my sexual haze. I spin around and dart out of the room, up the corridor to my own suite. I don’t stop until I am in the bathroom and have thrown off my clothes and stepped under the shower. Oh hell, what am I going to do now? How am I going to survive until the wedding?

I shove my fingers between my thighs. He told me I couldn’t come without his permission, but he’s not here, is he? He’ll never know if I make myself come. Fuck him. I thrust my fingers-one, two, three-inside my cunt. I thrust them in and out of me, in and out. I curve my fingers inside my channel, but it’s not enough. I add a fourth finger, and damn it, it doesn’t feel the same. Shit, shit, shit. Doesn’t matter; keep going. I weave my fingers in and out, but each time it feels like I am about to climax, I can’t relax enough to let go. Damn this, and damn him! Has he conditioned my body so much already that I have to obey him even when he is not here? I turn off the shower, dry myself, then pull on my sleep shorts and camisole and crawl into bed.

Sometime later, my eyes snap open. It’s still completely dark outside. I reach for my phone and the clock on the screen indicates it’s four am. I put the phone back, try to go back to sleep, but I hear the sound of something in the distance. I sit up, try to listen. There’s silence. Maybe it’s my imagination. I lay back in my bed, but now I feel wide awake. Damn it. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, then pull on a pair of thick socks. I grab a hoodie and shrug into it, then make for the door. As I pass Axel’s room, I hear the sound of a low scream. I stop at the door, press my ear to it, and that’s when I hear him cry out again. I open the door and slip inside.