Arranged Mafia Marriage

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I shove open the door to the safe house with my shoulder and haul her in.

“Let go of me.” She huffs.

I tighten my grasp on her wrist as I half-carry, half-drag her toward the bedroom.

“What is wrong with you?” she yells. I ignore her voice. Ignore the hot sensation that stabs at my chest. Ignore the pinpricks of reason that slice through my mind. What are you doing? What are you doing? Yes, you’re angry and pissed off, but does that justify what you’re about to do right now? Does it warrant leaving the gathering half-way through, then shoving her into the car, not talking on the way here, despite the fact that she’d asked many times what was wrong? Despite the fact that she had narrowed her gaze on you, her own growing more worried by the second.

I stayed focused on the driving and didn’t answer her, and she finally lapsed into silence. She firmed her shoulders, as if preparing for what was to come. Only she had no idea… No fucking clue just what I was going to unleash on her. So far, I had behaved myself. So far, I had kept myself in check-partly so she’d agree to the farce I had suggested. Not that she had a choice, but a compliant person is easier to manipulate. Which, again, doesn’t explain why I’m yanking her toward her new bedroom and refusing to listen to her protests. I throw open the door to her room and push her inside. She stumbles forward, rights herself, only to turn on me.

“What the hell?” She rages, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Strip,” I order.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” I look her up and down. “Take off your clothes, or I’ll do it for you.”

Color flushes her cheeks. “Not sure what game you’re playing at, but-”

I take a step forward, close the distance between us, then hook my finger in the neckline of her dress and tug. The delicate fabric rips from neck to hem. She yelps, “What the-!”

I grip both sides of the gaping halves and yank the fabric over her shoulders and down her arms.

Goose bumps crawl over her skin.

I take in her firm, high breasts cupped in her bra, the nipples already pebbled and outlined against the lacey fabric, the curve of her stomach that leads to her panty-clad core, her gorgeously fleshy thighs that lead to strong calves and shapely ankles with the straps that tie her fuck-me stilettos to her feet.

I throw the now torn dress over my shoulder and raise my gaze to hers.

“Asshole,” she snaps, “why the hell did you do that?”

“I gave you a chance to strip on your own, but you didn’t comply.”

“Whatever it is you have in mind, you can forget about it, mister.”

“Is that right?” I curl my fingers around the nape of her neck.

She winces, but doesn’t back away. Doesn’t let me see the nervousness that she must, surely, be feeling. She tips up her chin and firms her lips. “You don’t scare me.”

“Oh?” I raise my other hand and drag my thumb across her lower lip. “Open,” I say in a hard tone, and she sets her jaw.

“No.” She scowls at me. “I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

“Oh, you’re certainly making it more exciting, though.” I drag my palm down her throat to cup her breast. A shudder runs down her body, even as she firms her lips. I pinch her nipple between my finger and thumb and squeeze. She swallows. Her nipple seems to grow even more erect, and her breast seems to swell. A tremor grips her shoulders, but she doesn’t glance away. She holds my gaze as I draw my fingers down the curve of her hip, over to her belly button. I circle the indentation, and she draws in a breath.

I can’t stop the smirk that curls my lips as I graze my fingers against the waistband of her panties.

She swallows, and her chin trembles, even as her gaze grows stormy. “Fuck you,” she says in a low voice. “I hate what you do to me.”

“That makes two of us.” I cup her pussy with my palm and yank her toward me with the grip I have on her neck. I crash my mouth to hers. She presses her lips together as I kiss her.

I plaster my mouth to hers, lick her mouth, and a shiver runs down her body, even as she freezes. Every muscle in her body grows tense as she tries to resist me.

“Open,” I growl against her lips, “open and let me in.”

She shakes her head. I stare into those amber eyes as I sink my teeth into her lower lip. She draws in a breath and another shudder grips her shoulders as she locks her lips together. I close my fingers around her throat and increase the pressure. Her gaze widens, color smears her cheeks, her pupils dilate, and she shakes her head.

“You want this. Admit it,” I murmur. “You want me to thrust my fingers inside your pussy and bring you to orgasm before I bury myself inside your sweet cunt and bring you to climax.”

She purses her lips and shoots daggers with her eyes. I laugh, then sink down to my knees in between her legs.

“What the-!” She gasps, “What are you-?”

I close my mouth around the swollen flesh covered by the crotch of her panties, and she yelps. I bite down on the engorged nub of her clit. Her knees seem to buckle from under her. She buries her fingers in my hair and tugs. Goose bumps trickle down my spine. Blood drains to my groin, and my dick lengthens. I slide my finger under the seam of her panties and thrust a finger inside her. Her dripping flesh welcomes me, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from throwing her down and mounting her right there. I add a second finger, then a third as I continue to suck on her clit. I glance up to find her squeezing her eyes shut, even as she thrusts her pelvis into my face. I slide the fingers of my other hand under the seat of her panties, up the valley between her ass cheeks. I finger her puckered hole, and her eyelids snap open. Lust, shock, horror-all three are intertwined in her gaze as I curl my fingers in the moist channel of her pussy.

A trembling grips her. She bites down on her lip as she shakes her head; no doubt trying to fight the orgasm that threatens to overwhelm her.

I pull my fingers from her, then stand and haul her up in my arms. She yells out and grabs a hold of my neck as I march toward the bed. I throw her down on the bed, and she bounces once before coming to a stop.

Her hair flows over her face, and she shoves the strands aside. “You jerk! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I throw myself over her, and she shrinks back into the bed. I plant my knees on either side of her thighs and glare at her. “You will do as I say.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, I intend to, all right.” I peer into her face and order, “Turn over.”

“Make me!” She firms her lips together, then yelps in surprise when I flip her onto her front.

She wriggles under me, and I slap her butt. She stills, more out of surprise than anything, then turns to stare at me over her shoulder. “How dare you?” she hisses.

I laugh. “Oh, I’m going to do more than that. Each time you disobey me, I’m going to spank your ass.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Try me, Flower.”

“I hate that stupid nickname,” she spits out.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” I yawn.

Color suffuses her cheeks. “Get off of me.”

“Make me.” I grin at her, and she pins me with a scowl.

“I’m not going to let you fuck me.”

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to.”

“No way.”

“Oh, yes.” I grab her ample butt and haul her up so she’s balanced on her knees, ass up in the air, her cheek pushed down into the bed.

“Don’t you dare,” she snarls. “Don’t you dare do it.”

I grab the waist of her panties and tear them off of her.

She huffs. I bring my palm down on her behind. The crack echoes around the room, and she yells, “What the hell?!” She tries to pull away, but I grab her waist to hold her in place.

I spank her left ass cheek, then the right, then the left again, and the right. I keep alternating the position of the slaps again and again. Each time my palm connects with her backside, her entire body jolts. Each time I feel the silky, smooth skin of her backside, blood thrums in my veins. A pulse flares to life at my temples, at my wrists, even in my fucking balls. My dick begins to leak precum. I bring my palm down to massage the reddened skin of her backside. She groans as I drag my fingers down the valley between her ass cheeks to the flesh between her legs. She jerks, then whines when I draw my fingers down her sodden pussy lips.

“You’re soaked,” I growl.

“Not by choice,” she tosses over her shoulder. “I’m not responsible for the fact that my body responds to you.”

“We’ll see, shall we?” I part her ass cheeks, then lower my mouth to her weeping slit.