He believes I belong to him. He says that I’m his. What’s to stop him from raping me? The thought terrifies me.
He drags his cock between my legs and teases my entrance, the hot head of his cock right where I’m longing for it.
“You’d take me like this?” I ask, staring into his eyes in the mirror, those beautiful, furious eyes of his. My voice wobbles, yet I hold his gaze. “My first time? You’d take my virginity with me pressed up against your dresser?” I bite back tears again. If he’s thinking of raping me, maybe I could talk him out of it. “Why would you do that to me on our wedding night? Why would you take the only gift I’ve brought here to you and defile it like that?”
I don’t know the woman staring at him in the mirror, logically arguing her way out of being violated. I feel as if I’m having an out-of-body experience. Angelina, the virgin who thought it wise to sacrifice for a friend of hers. And this woman here, naked and submitting to a hot but dangerous criminal.
Something shifts in his gaze. He blinks, as if waking from a dream. He still holds me up against the dresser with my breasts pressed to the edge, his body engulfing mine. Gathering my hair in his thick fist, he yanks it to the side and kisses my neck. Much to my chagrin, a shiver races down my spine. I wish I wasn’t so easily manipulated.
He pulls my hair so hard I gasp. “Because I own you.” He laps at my neck. My skin heats at the way he grips me, as if branding me with his touch will make it clear I’m his. “And because you like it.”
I want to talk back to him, tell him he doesn’t know what I like, but I can’t because there’s a tingling in the pit of my stomach and my lips won’t work. He’s so disturbing to me in every possible way, the maddening arrogance, the boiling anger, the rough heat of his skin, the way I know, I know, how he wants to unleash his full sadist on me.
But I’m no pawn in this. So I stand up straighter and arch my spine. I plant my hands on either side of his, despite the way he pushes me harder, grips me tighter, and growls.
“I don’t believe you,” I whisper in the darkness. I hold his ice-blue gaze. “Why don’t you give me a wedding gift, big guy. I like it? Then show me.”
A low growl fills the darkened room before he lifts me as if I’m a child, just slings me right up into his arms before he tosses me onto the bed. I barely bounce on the mattress before he pins me down. “Hands over your head,” he orders, and when I don’t obey fast enough, he claps his hand to my thigh. It stings and burns, but I do what he says and lift my hands up.
He bends and kisses me while he strips off his clothes.
I can barely think anymore, I’m so consumed by him. The smell of him, the feel of his lips on mine, the pounding of my heart. He grates in my ear, “Open your legs.” His voice is husky, affected, and his cock is somehow hard and soft, silk-wrapped velvet.
My damp, slick arousal’s all mingled with his pre-cum, and somehow the musky scent of sex makes my heart beat faster. I pant in anticipation, scared but excited.
“I told you I’d mark you.” I nod, and my heartbeat spikes. Oh God. He nestles himself between my folds, dragging his cock through my slick, swollen pussy. It feels good. I want him to rub his cock over my clit until I come. It’s exquisite, his hard cock teasing my entrance. He hasn’t plunged into me yet.
“I want you wet when I take you. I want you to feel me, but I don’t want you to hurt.”
Yeah, achievement unlocked. I’m fucking sopping.
“This is the way I mark you.”
He presses his cock to my entrance, and I hold my breath. My whole body shakes in anticipation. I want to feel this, but I’m terrified.
“Breathe,” he demands. “I don’t want to hurt you.” I do what he says, taking in a deep breath, and as my lungs fill with air, he eases his way into me.
Vibrators don’t prepare you for a thick, hard, dominant cock. Who knew?
At first, it hurts. It burns. “Breathe, Elise,” he orders. “Do it.”
I take another gasp of breath. He rocks his hips, and just like that, as if he’s flipped a switch, the pain begins to fade to bliss.
Over and over again he moves in me. I’m moaning, consumed by him, drowning in the feel of him inside me. I’m so full I might burst, so full I want to cry from the utter perfection of it.