Page 19 of Temptation
I expect him to kiss or touch me, but I am not prepared for a hard smack on my naked ass. The crack of his hand against my skin echoes through the room, a shock of pain that leaves me gasping. A yelp escaped my throat—a mixture of shock, pain, and surprise.
The sound is ripped from me, a primal reaction to the unexpected blow. “What—?” The question hangs in the air, unspoken but clear in my gaze. My hands push against his massive chest, but his grip remains strong, holding me in place. I’m trapped, caught in his grasp with no escape.
“I promised you a lesson in obedience, didn’t I?” His voice is a low rumble, a satisfied purr that makes my blood boil. A smug smile crosses his lips as he watches my reactions, his words sinking in. The shimmer in his eyes tells me he is enjoying the hell out of this. My heart is hammering in my chest as I try to think of something to say, but I am at a loss for words. My mind is a jumbled mess, unable to form a coherent thought. With his big hand still firmly gripping my neck, he holds my naked body against his as he, in rapid succession, smacks my ass several times, the cracking sounds of each smack and my shallow breathing the only sounds audible.
Fucking bastard.The curse is a silent scream in my mind. Biting back every insult that runs through my mind, I claw at his chest, shocked by the realization that my excitement is bigger than my desire to fight him. I’m torn, caught between the need to resist and the urge to submit. I clamp my mouth shut, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing a single sound pushing from my lips. The slight pain of his hand connecting to my barecheeks seems to do nothing but to arouse me even further. Each blow is a spark, igniting a fire that threatens to consume me.
Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I’m venturing into uncharted territory, a landscape of sensation and emotion that leaves me breathless. When he is done, he briefly brushes his lips against mine before he tosses me onto my stomach on the bed, gently caressing the heated skin of my butt. The tender touch is a stark contrast to the rough handling just moments before, a confusing mix of pleasure and pain. “Spread your legs.” The command is a low growl, a primal demand that makes my pulse race. My pussy is clenching and releasing in anticipation as I obey his command. I’m helpless to resist, my body responding to his every demand. Fabrizio presses my legs apart further before sliding his hand in between them and along my slickened fold. When the tip of his finger flicks over my swollen clit, I can’t hold back a moan. The sound is ripped from me, a raw expression of the sensation coursing through me.
“You seem to enjoy beingtaught a lessonfor a change.” His dark, sultry voice is laced with amusement, and his words send a wave of shivers through my body, which transform into a full-fledged shudder as he thrusts his fingers inside me. I arch into the touch, my body seeking more of the pleasure he offers.
“Oh.” The word is a breathy whisper, a mindless response to the sensation overwhelming me.
“So wet,” he murmurs behind me as he eases his fingers up and down my wetness, toying with my clit. This is not only about teaching me a lesson. I realize with a start, a dawning understanding of the power dynamics at play. Every last one of his moves is a display of power and dominance. A reminder that I’m at his mercy, a toy for him to play with. A reminder that he really believes I am his. I can’t hold back a whimper at the electricity searing through me.
I am still trapped in a surreal world, wondering how his actions can awaken my carnal needs like no one before him could.
I am a sick woman.The thought is a silent accusation, a self-directed criticism for my body’s reaction. That’s the only explanation I can offer myself for my body’s reaction. A rationalization for the irrational desire coursing through my veins. Fabrizio’s fingers dig into my waist, the only indicator of what will happen now.
A subtle warning, a silent promise of the pleasure to come. “Ah.” As he shoves the entire length of his cock inside me, I can’t hold back a scream, pressing my face into the bed to muffle it as best as I can.
It has been too long since I’ve been with a man; my muscles ache as they stretch to accept all of him. A delicious burn that only adds to the pleasure blooming inside me. Fuck. A deep growl escapes his throat as he pulls out entirely before slamming inside me again. The rhythm of his thrusts is a primal dance, a raw expression of desire and need. I buck against his merciless pounding, arching my back in an attempt to meet every one of his thrusts.
I’m lost in the sensation, my body moving on instinct alone. My pulse is racing, and I clench the comforter even harder as I feel a climax building in me. The pleasure is a growing storm, a tempest that threatens to consume me. But before I find release from the boiling pleasure inside me, he pulls out of me completely; the sudden feeling of emptiness leaving me in shock for a moment. A stark contrast to the fullness just moments before, a reminder of how quickly the pleasure can be taken away. Fabrizio grips my waist again and turns my body around. Panting, I am lying on my back, staring at the man standing before me. He’s a vision of masculine perfection, a primal malein his element. His cock is glistening with my juices, and the look on his face says he’s ready to devour me entirely.
A hungry predator, and I’m his willing prey. He places himself between my legs, spreading them further, dragging his erection up and down my pussy. My heart flutters, and a whimper escapes my throat as he pummels into me again.
His big body hovers over mine as he plants his hands on either side of my head, his ragged breathing grazing my cheeks. I’m trapped beneath him, caught in his grasp with no escape. I am at a loss for words; the only sounds leaving my lips are primal moans as he fucks me, his forceful thrusts shoving me against the bed. Within seconds, the increasing speed of his thrusts brings me to the edge of ecstasy again.
I feel an orgasm rushing into my system, its intensity threatening to burst the seams of my body; I lift my hips, meeting each and every one of his hard, animalistic thrusts. I’m chasing the pleasure, my body seeking the release that looms just out of reach. There is no holding back for me as a climax rushes into every cell of my body. “Oh.Oh.Oh.” The words are a breathy chant, a mindless response to the sensation coursing through me. He lowers his head onto the bed as he erupts with a guttural growl, spilling his seed inside me.
Fabrizio’s broad body remains hovering over mine for a few seconds, our labored breaths the only thing audible besides the hammering of my heart echoing in my ears.
As the fog in my mind starts to lift slowly, he pushes himself up from the bed, grabs his boxers and jeans, and gets dressed again. His movements are brusque, a sharp contrast to the tender touch just moments before. While I certainly didn’t expect any cuddling or additional romance, I am surprised that I feel taken aback at the sudden distance between us. A pang of disappointment stings, a sharp reminder of the reality of our situation.
“She was murdered.” The words escape his lips, an admission of a dark truth that hangs heavily in the air.
“W-What?” I stammer, my voice quivering.
“My wife,” he continues, his voice cracking. His shoulders tense up, and his entire body stiffens as if bracing against an unseen force. “She was killed a few weeks after the twins’ second birthday.” His tone is laced with profound sorrow, each syllable dripping with the weight of his grief. The pain is palpable, a haunting melody that reverberates through the room.
“Oh my…” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I don’t know what to say. I am so sorry.” The words feel inadequate.
“Given their age at that time, they hardly remember her.” His voice is dull and monotone, a resigned acceptance of the harsh reality. “They stopped asking about their mother a long time ago. I prefer not to open any old wounds.” He grabs his shirt and leaves without another word or glance at me. His departure is abrupt, a swift exit that leaves me feeling bereft. But as I watch him leave, I can’t help but feel sorry for him. A pang of sympathy stings, a deep sadness for the man and the pain he still carries.
I walk down the stairs to find Fabrizio standing in the hallway, surrounded by men dressed in dark attire. When he turns to face me, his expression is once again hard and cold, devoid of any emotion. It’s like a mask, concealing the man beneath. He strides toward me and speaks in an even, distant tone, a far cry from the passion we shared just hours ago.
“I will be gone for a few hours but expect to be back tonight. Vance will stay with you,” he says, his words more of a command than a statement. “Should I not make it back in time for dinner,please ensure that the children are in bed by eight.” I stand up straight and meet his cold gaze, silently challenging the emotional distance he’s put between us.
“Yes, sir,” I reply, my tone dripping with sarcasm. One of Fabrizio’s henchmen, the one who accompanied him to the school, seems amused by my tone, a slight grin spreading across his face. His eyes meet mine, and I struggle to keep my emotions in check, fighting to maintain my composure. Did I really expect last night to change anything between us? He showed me exactly what kind of man he is and what my place is in his world. There was no need for him to tell me that I mean nothing to him, that last night was just about satisfying his primal needs.
I’m convinced that if this man ever had a soft spot, it died with his wife.
Nine
Fabrizio
Family—the cornerstone of all that truly matters; that’s the mantra I’ve heard my entire life. In our family, this principle is intertwined with our business, a legacy so deeply rooted it feels like destiny.
