Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Unbuttoning my pants, I reach in and pull my cock free, gripping it with as much tightness as I know only her beautiful pussy can. No hand or other cunt on this earth can compare to the sweetness between her legs. Emelia and I may not know one another, and we are still in a loveless marriage, but when we fuck, it’s like we’ve always known one another. That’s the only time we can agree on anything. Lust and getting off.
We temporarily hang our daggers and pitchforks up in the corner, and we are lost to the insatiable need that eats people alive.
The devil is in the details, in every curve and inch of her body. What we do would make grown men cry just by witnessing it. But tonight, I’ll fuck her with respect. Not physically, but mentally. She is my ally, and we are now partners, and when she’s ready, we will take down her father. Who knew this could come from our deceptively arranged marriage. In fact, I convinced myself for weeks leading up to the wedding that she would never take my side and all she’d be is the portal for my heir before she’d run at the first hint of my plans.
“Faster. Fuck yourself faster. Don’t you dare go easy on that cunt,” I bark at her.
“I want it to be you. I’m hurting. Aching!” she cries, and I growl loudly. I don't even recognize the sound coming out of me.
“Yeah, you are. Ass up on the bed, baby.”
With enthusiasm, she rushes to the bed, working quickly to take her heels off when she gets there.
“No. Leave them on,” I groan, gripping the tip of my cock as I approach her. “Shoulders to the bed, and if you move, I stop,” I threaten. Watching her head bob an eager yes, I praise her, “Good girl.”
“I love it when you do that. But I also like it when you treat me like I’m filthy,” she confesses, and I grin and line my cock up with her entrance. Without hesitation, I enter her like a feral beast.
“Shit!” she squeals.
The image of her being impaled on my thick cock will never get old. Smacking her ass, then immediately pinching her thigh, I make her yelp.
“Nico!”
I fuck up into her, thrusting with purpose. I still have my shirt and my dress slacks on. The stark difference between her open and bare and me still hidden behind a mask, it makes it that much more thrilling.
“This means nothing more than fucking,” I remind her.
Or am I reminding myself?
Shaking my head, I try to rid myself of that thought. This is nothing. She is nothing. We are nothing more than business partners and really good at fucking each other. That’s all.
But even thinking about this throws me off.
“Nico? Please don’t stop.”
But I do. I need to get my fucking head in the game. I’m riding a high and getting my dick wet by really good pussy. That’s it.
Needing a minute, I think up something quick. When I pull out, she cries out for me, “Il mio re.”
Did she just call me her fucking king once again?
Fuck.
“Principessa, don’t talk until I tell you to. Put your face into the mattress. Understand?”
“Yes. Just please—”
I slap her ass, watching the thick roundness move with the strength of my touch. Emelia wants to beg, but she fights it, putting her face in the mattress and gripping the sheets. I move to my nightstand and pull out some lube. Watching her shoulders rise and fall in tandem with her desire, I move back behind her.
I bet this is killing her, not being able to talk. In fact, I would bet my life on it. However, Emelia and I are both passionate in the bedroom, and clearly, we are passionate about our enemies as well, but I can’t let that be mistaken as some unspoken bond.
It’s an alliance.
Alliance is business.
A bond indicates something more, even love, and I will never love her.
I tilt my head from side to side, admiring her pussy, full ass, and stunning back, all while I trail my hands from her shoulders and back to her ass. I touch every inch of skin I can along the way, pinching, grabbing, and prepping her for what’s to come. No moans leave her, and for that, I am proud. I want to watch her anticipation grow. See her shiver under my touch and build the excitement.
Her silence is more telling than her words could ever be. The reactions of her skin and the jolts of her body speak louder than even the city life below us.
Each inch of skin is covered in goose bumps, and her cunt is dripping, her juice moving from her center and down her thighs. “Sweet, such a sweet taste you have.” I bend and lap up the wetness. I wouldn’t dare let any of that go to waste. A faint—and I mean an ever-so faint—sound leaves her, and I smirk against her thigh, nipping it in response, and she jolts forward.