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"Yes!"
"Good"thrust"fucking"thrust"girl."Thrust thrust thrust. His hands go to my hair, caging me further into his dominating embrace. Hismasculine groans are deep and guttural, as though this is as torturous for him as it is for me, but he doesn't stop pounding away, never changing pace or angle, just watching my face, kissing my lips, devouring every thought, every whimper, every moan.
"Maksim! I-" I don't wait. My hips begin their own roll, rocking up to meet him, fucking back to their own accord, searching for more of my husband, the traitorous sluts, and this makes my husband's chest rumble in approval.
"There it is, Duchess. There you fucking go, taking my cock. I told you it was made for you. Look at my tight little pussy go, swallowing me up like such a beautiful little slut. So hungry for my cock, wasn't she?"
"No!" I lie, because that's what I do best when he sits back on his heels. My thighs fall open. He allows one leg to slide off his broad shoulder, the other is donned in a pink, strappy, glittering Del La Renta. It rests on his shoulder, and he licks my ankle up to my calf, pounding harder with a growl. Then he reaches over and moves my head by my hair so I can glimpse at where we're joined. God, he looks so fucking good coated in my arousal. As divine as Lucifer in a renaissance painting, and here I am – his willing victim. The sight of him powering into me, between my thighs, beastly and frantic is fucking mouth-watering. My mouth pools with so much saliva and I have to swallow it down.
I don't think I've been this hungry for cock in a long, long time. Of course the beast above me would have a glorious dick. Fucker.
"Bugiarda, Sabrina. Your mouth is such a beautiful little liar but this body... can't lie to me. You were made for me, as much as I was made for you. Just look at the way you’re taking me. Opening up for me."
"Shut up!" I scream, because my heart is tearing and my brain can't think, battling between wanting to hide and wanting to stay present. Tears prick the back of my eyes. "Shut up shut up shut up shut up!"
"No! You fucking tease me all fucking day, flaunting yourself, in your little pajamas, smelling so fucking good, so sweet, so innocent my little wife, my little baker. You smile through your lies, but you can't lie to me."
"Fuck you!" I gasp as he shoves every delirium-causing inch into me. It’s so good. It’s too good.
"You are. Writhing beneath me, taking my dick, whimpering like a little slut.Mylittle slut. My gorgeous fucking wife. You want more, Duchess, don't you?"
He slaps me when I don't answer but fuck, I want that again. The crazy bitch in mesmilesbrightly up at him and he takes notice, my husband does and slaps me again.Thrust thrust thrust thrust. His hand finds my throat, squeezing it lightly, thumbing my pulse point. "Open your fucking mouth when I ask you a question and be honest for once in your life."
I do and he spits in it, moving his hand from my throat to my mouth, covering it so I have no choice but to swallow it down. It's disgusting. It's inhuman. It's so fucking dirty, and it makes me come involuntarily. Crashing against every wave pulling me under, my back arches, my vision blurs, I cry out, thighs shaking, my pussy squeezing until I hear him groaning, cursing in Italian, Russian, and English. I feel each fucking load as he spills into me. Warmth spreads through me, and I jerk but he doesn't relent.
I shove him off, kicking at him. "Get off me you fucking ogre!"
"No!"
"Get. OFF!"
"No Sabrina.No."
"Please!" I choke out, unable to stop my tears from spilling, but my struggles and protests go limp. I'm nothing but a butterfly trying to attack a castle, goddammit. God fucking dammit! His arms go around my waist as he shuffles us onto our sides. I can't help it. I hide myself with a hand as my tears puddle on his chest.
But he holds me, clutching me closer. Tighter. Fingers in my hair, the other hand on my hip, running up to my ribs and back down.
He shushes me soothingly, never letting me break away. "No, Sabrina, because I'm here for you. Shhh, Duchess. I'm here."
I wake up early, still on him, him still inside of me. The fog in my mind has lifted, but I still feel dazed. A weight on my shoulders has been chipped away.
I tear myself off of him and sit up, looking down at my torn Gucci, and memories of last night flood me. I stand, letting the dress fall away as I walk to the dresser, open it, and then push a tiny button at the back of the drawer. The smallclicktells me the hideaway drawer has opened. I stretch it toward me, slowly taking out the pistol Maksim thinks I don't know he's hidden in there.
Luckilyfor me, I’m a curious cat.
And this is how I’ll probably die since Maksim’s enormous cock didn’t do the job.
I walk back to the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight. I straddle the giant man, remove the safety, thumb the hammer down, and point it at my handsome, sleeping husband.
My devil in disguise.
His large hands find the tops of my thighs, and the bastard smirks before he even opens his eyes. Idiot. "Ready for round two, Duchess?"
I grin when his dark eyes find the barrel of the gun at my fingertips. Slowly, Maksim licks his lower bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, growing hard beneath my naked sex. "You want to shoot me while my cum still leaks from your abused little pussy, Duchess?"
"I told you to stop."
He rolls his hips forward, the tip of his dick doing monstrous things to my clit. God, he's right. I'm still dripping his cum. I inhale sharply, swallowing a moan. His pupils dilate, his eyes look black, demonic, and I should be afraid of the man beneath me, but I know he won't hurt me.