Arranged Mafia Marriage

“I don’t, actually,” he retorts. “For a long time, I had no idea what I was going to do with my life.”

I turn my head and he increases the pressure on my hair so I have to glance forward again.

“Thought you were born into the Mafia, so you didn’t have a choice but to join the family business?”

“You always have a choice, in everything you do, Beauty.” He urges me to tilt my head back as he digs his fingertips into my scalp in slow circles.

A warmth envelops me and the muscles of my neck relax. “Hmm,” I sigh, “you sure are good with your fingers, Mr. Capo.”

A chuckle rumbles up his chest and the vibrations sink into my blood. The warmth of his body, combined with the heat from the hot water, envelops me fully. I close my eyes and give in to his attention as he begins to wash the suds out of my hair with the hand shower. Then he positions my head against his shoulder, and I sink into him further. He holds the hand shower over my breasts, then moves it down my belly. He dips the hand shower under water and holds it right over the entrance to my pussy.

“Ooh,” I murmur, “that’s…ah…nice.”

“Nice, hmm?” His breath teases my temple a second before he runs his tongue around the shell of my ear. He bites down on my earlobe at the same time that he pushes the shower head right up against the entrance of my channel.

The pressure of the water is muted, yet it stimulates my clit. I wriggle around and he brings his big hand down onto my hip and holds me in place.

“Relax, Beauty,” he murmurs, “I know what you need.”

Do you? Do you know how much I love having your hands on me? How much I want you to debase me? How much I need you to degrade me? How I want you to humiliate me, to make me submit, to reach out to the darkness inside of me and bring it to the light so I can see myself through your eyes? Feel my desires as they ripple up your skin, sense how I break you apart, as you shatter me and put me back together in a design that mocks the girl I used to be.

Do you, my Capo, understand what it means that I met you this way? Even though the timing of our encounter is all wrong, even though the nature of our tryst is suspect… Even though you claim that I am your wife…though we both know this marriage is a sham. One that is a means of helping you get what you desire, that allows you to fulfill all of your ambitions… And me… what about me? What about what I want, what I need, what I want to do to you as you pleasure me?All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

I grip his wrist, applying enough pressure that he pauses. I turn my head, glance at him from the corner of my eye. I urge his hand back and he frowns. I turn around so I am kneeling between his legs, facing him, in the bathtub.

Then I bring his hand back between my legs and position the shower head back at the entrance of my channel. He arches his eyebrow at me and I raise a shoulder, “I can see you this way.”

He moves the shower head closer to my clit and a shiver runs up my back. I reach down to grasp his erect cock, as he reaches behind him and increases the pressure of the water. The stream gushes up and against my already sensitive clit and I gasp. I tense my fingers around his cock, and damn it, my fingers don’t meet around his girth. I mean, I’d felt him inside of me… as he’d stretched me, and filled me, as he’d pushed his way down my throat… but I hadn’t realized just how big he is, in relation to my hand. I swipe my fingers down to the base of his shaft, and he grits his teeth.

A nerve throbs at his temple, as he grips my hip with his other hand, bracketing me in. I part my legs, allowing him to bring the spray even closer. The spray massages my pussy and I can’t stop the moan that bleeds from my lips. I hold his gaze as I swipe my fingers up the length of his cock. I drag my thumb across his swollen head and he bares his teeth. I squeeze down his length again and his chest rises and falls. “You’re killing me,” he growls as he reaches behind to turn off the water before letting the shower head sink to the bottom of the tub. He wraps his fingers about the nape of my neck, and the tips almost meet around the front of my throat. I swallow and I can feel him feel the action.

The skin around his eyes tightens. “Take me in your mouth,” he orders.

I glance down, then back at his face. I take a breath, then lower my head to the water. The depth is just enough to cover my mouth, as I close my lips around his cock. A groan rumbles up his massive chest, as he increases the pressure on my throat. “Take me down your throat, I want to feel you swallow.” He lowers his voice to a hush, and OMG, that dominance in his voice chafes across my nerve-endings. All of my pores seem to pop. My core clenches and moisture pools between my legs as I open my mouth wider, then drop my chin as I take him down my throat. And promptly gag. He holds me in place as my eyes water.

“Take it all in, Beauty,” he growls, his voice hard, his gaze burning into me, a challenge in them, maybe? And fuck it, but I want to show him that I am not some stupid, virginal woman who can’t keep up with him. So, I draw in another breath through my nose, hold it, then relax my throat as he pushes me down and I take him in as deep as I can. The water flows over my nose and I don’t dare breathe as I lick my tongue up his swollen length.

He presses his thumb into the front of my throat and groans, “Fuck me, but you have no idea how hot that is, Beauty. To feel my cock as it slides down your throat.” His breath catches, “It’s so damn erotic.” His tone deepens, “You’re a fucking queen… My goddess.”

Umm, okay, is that the blow job speaking, or does he really mean it?

I draw back, so my nose is above water, draw in a breath, then plunge down again. This time his cock slides down my throat easily as I lick down his length, then up again as I pull back. I wrap my lips around the head of his cock, give it a slurp, then again.

“Dio cane!” he growls as his fingers tighten around my nape. He urges me to lower my head, as I open my mouth as wide as possible. He applies enough pressure that I take him down my throat, then he pulls me back, allowing me to take a breath, before he once more pushes me down. His dick slides down my throat, and again. The next time he pulls me back, I take in a breath, and he pauses. “You good?” He tilts his head, “If you want me stop, Beauty, you only have to tap my thigh, and I’ll release you.”

I stare up at him, and he curls his lips. Bastard. No doubt, he expects me to tap out. He probably wants me to admit that he’s too much for me. That I can’t take his rough handling of me. That I am not able to keep pace with him. That I am too weak to bear his proclivities…and… I know, I know… It’s stupid that I have to turn this into some kind of competition. I mean, ultimately this is about him manipulating my body to suit his needs. Not that I am not getting any pleasure out of it, but surely, he could be more… gentle on me…

Except, I don’t want him to be gentle. I want him to take me as he would any common whore. I want him to use me as his personal fucktoy… Yeah… I know, I need therapy, surely. Who would want a man to debase her, demean her, use her mouth for his pleasure, use her cunt to bring him satisfaction, use her every hole as it would best suit him? Me… That’s who. And no, I am not going to apologize for this anymore.

I have always known my tastes are warped, my preferences extreme, my needs different from what most women want. No pink roses, or candles or soft beds… Okay, maybe the third one is okay… But only so they bring out the contrast to the unyielding body that pushes me into said bed and masters me. So yeah… This is me…unapologetic, uncaring, not in denial for what I want. Not when I’ve met a man whose tastes, surely, run as much to the extreme as my own.

I wrap my fingers around the base of his dick and squeeze hard.

His breath catches. Color smears his cheeks. I bring my other palm down to cup his balls. I massage them and his chest rises and falls. His shoulders flex. He seems to grow bigger, darker, more dangerous, if that were possible. A cloud of heat spools off of him, and slams into my chest. I gasp and sweat beads my brow.

He bares his teeth, then pushes me down, watching as his cock disappears in my mouth. He pulls me back, then presses me down, again and again. His movements speed up. His gaze intensifies. I don’t take my gaze off of him. I keep the connection alive as he fucks my mouth, as tears run down my cheeks, joining the rest of the bath water. Heat flushes my skin and my pulse rate speeds up. I am turned on by how he is using me, and fuck, if I’ll do anything to stop myself from relishing how he uses me. How his body reacts to what he’s doing to me.

His chest planes flex, his belly clenches. The skin around his mouth tightens as he squeezes my hip with enough pressure that I know I’ll bear the imprint of his fingers for days. Hell, if he hasn’t marked me already, in ways that may not be visible, but which I will carry inside of me. On my dark soul, which speaks to his. In my mind, which is racing to keep one step ahead of him. In my heart, which is already his… Fuck… No, no, no. No way… I can’t allow myself to fall for this beast.

His nostrils flare, he grits his teeth, and I know then, he’s coming. A groan rumbles from him as he pulls me back, then urges me down to take his cock all the way down my throat one last time. His entire body tenses, then he throws his head back and growls as he shoots his load down my throat.