“You can be your own person, but your cunt is mine,” I say, grabbing my cock in my free hand and forcing the head into the vicelike grip of her virgin opening.
“You’re hurting me,” she cries, tears springing to her eyes.
“I told you I wouldn’t be gentle.”
I pull out and enter her again, nearly losing my mind with the exquisite sensation of stretching her virgin flesh around my cock. She cries out in shock this time, and I push the panties between her lips, shoving them into her mouth to muffle her. She might be fighting me, but her slick cunt tells me she wants this, even if her stubborn mind can’t admit it. I push a little deeper this time, shaking with the effort of holding back. It’s been so long since I fucked a woman, and I want her so fucking much, that my body threatens to cum before I’ve even torn through the barrier inside her. I’ll only get to take her virginity once, though, and I’m damn sure going to make it last.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” I breathe, easing my cock in deeper, opening her untouched cunt for my passage. “It feels so good.”
She bucks under me, crying out behind my hand. I release her face, leaving the panties stuffed in her mouth, and thrust deeper, into the woman who has tested my patience every day until she found my limit. I’m done playing her game. That’s what this is to her, a game to see if she can make me snap.
Well, she’s finally gotten her wish.
My cock meets the barrier or her virginity, and I pause, feeling it stretch deliciously around my tip.
I draw back an inch and then give a quick, sharp thrust, tearing through her virginity. She shrieks, writhing under me. I still inside her, stroking her hair back and kissing her tearstained lids.
“Give me those pretty little tears,” I croon. “Cry for me, my virgin bride. You don’t fool me. You can take it. I know how tough you are.”
When she lifts her hips, trying to push me off, I drive deeper into her, watching her pretty tears fall as finally I take what’s mine, what’s been mine all along.
“That’s it,piccola mia,” I whisper. “Get it all out now because you’re going to get used to this. Since you need reminding who you belong to, I’m going to be fucking this sweet little cunt of mine ever night until you stop fighting it. You’ll always be mine. You might as well accept it and learn to take me like a good little wife.”
As I speak, I slowly push against the clench of her walls. She cries out again with each inch I move deeper into her virgin cunt, opening her flesh for the first time, fitting it to my cock’s size. I don’t hurt her unnecessarily, but I don’t give in to her tears, either. I go slow, letting her adjust, but I don’t stop until I’m buried to the hilt inside her, claiming every inch of her to the very depths.
She’s so tight, so slick and hot, I can barely see straight. “This is mine,” I growl, pulling back and thrusting deep inside her again. “You’re mine. Understand?”
I draw out and then drive into her so deep she moves up the bed with the force of my hips. I grip her hips, holding her in place to receive the next blow. I bury my cock to the hilt, grinding my pelvic bone against her clit. She makes a sound, muffled behind the panties still stuffed in her mouth. Her eyes are pools of shining hate as she stares up at me. I slam into her again, loving the way her eyes widen with shock when I hit her depths.
“Look at you taking every inch of me,” I growl, thrusting to her depths again. “Just as I’m taking you. I’m yours, Eliza. Every part of me is yours. Every inch. Just as you are mine.”
I have staked my claim to my bride at last. She is truly mine. Her cunt, her virginity, her body. It’s been saved for me. It’s not a prize I’ve won, but a reward for all I’ve been through. It’s my right, what was promised to me for putting up with her. I gave her time to get used to the idea, to come around on her own terms, and she didn’t. Now she learns my terms.
This isn’t a game. I could have died yesterday because of her little tantrums. I’ve realized just how real this is, how real the consequences of her despising me are. Now it’s time for her to take the same dose of reality, time for her to learn the price of her betrayal. More than that, it’s time that I did my job and showed her what it means to be a mafia wife.
I move faster, watching her tears fall and her jaw clamp down on the panties in her mouth. Her cunt grips me in its slippery vice, and I pump into it, punishing her for her defiance with each rough thrust. I’m proving a point, but I’m also letting myself go at last, letting myself take what’s mine without worrying about our future. She already hates me. It makes no difference if I fuck her or not. It makes no difference how I fuck her. So I do it the way I want, unleashing my fury and frustration each time I slam my cock to the hilt inside her.
Each thrust brings a muffled sound from her throat, her sweet cries of pleasure and pain keeping me going. I pound into her hot, slick cunt, pushing up to watch my cock owning her, the blood proof that she’s a treasure that only I will ever claim. She’s perfect, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen as she lays under me, her hair spread out around her, glistening tears clinging to her wet lashes, her face flushed. Her full lips tremble around the red lace stuffed inside, but she doesn’t spit it out.
At last, she’s surrendered.
She knew this was coming. She sure as fuck knows how to provoke me, and if she didn’t like the consequences, she wouldn’t do the same thing every goddamn day. She might cry her fake tears, but she wants it as much as I do, wanted me to put her in her place and show her how to submit. She wants me to show her how much I want her, how completely I own her. She wants to see how far I’ll go to claim her, how hard I’ll fight for her, that I will never give up and walk away just like she’ll never give in. She can’t admit it, but she needs this as much as I do. She needs to be claimed by force if necessary, to be dominated and owned.
She’s no longer tense, no longer fighting it. Her thighs are open to receive my claim, and I claim her. I claim the gift that was mine to take all along, that I should have taken the very first night. I drive into her harder as she gets looser, wetter, until I’m pounding her into the bed, driving my cock to the hilt inside her bloody cunt with each brutal thrust until I can’t hold back. I slam into her one last time and hold, claiming the depths of her cunt with my cock, staking the final claim inside her body with each spurt of cum. This is mine to take, to fuck, to punish and own in whatever ways I see fit. She is not her own person. None of us are.
We are husband and wife, whether we want it or not. I’m a soldier who breaks people every day, whether I want to or not. But this… This is what I want. To be truly together, husband and wife not only on paper but in the physical sense, our bodies joined as one, our hearts beating against each other as I lie on her, the aftershocks of my orgasm still squeezing drops of cum into her cervix every few seconds.
At last, I pry myself away from her and climb off the bed. Before I go to the shower to wash the blood away, I turn back. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, it’s time to get a maid to start coming in and changing the sheets.”
seventeen
Eliza
I hate him. I hate him with all the impotent rage burning through my limbs, with every crashing beat of my hurricane heart, with the helpless fury of all the mafia wives ever sold into the bondage of marriage. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop him. He proved that tonight. I’m his, and he can do what he likes with me. He’s mine, too—my punishment, my torture to bear.
I curl around myself, furious at every tear he forced from my eyes, the tears that still soak my cheeks, dripping onto the pillow like the cum I can feel still dripping out of my wrecked body, leaking onto the sheets with my blood. I want to kill him, to kill every Valenti who’s ever hurt my family, every person who’s ever hurt me. I want them all obliterated, burned to nothing more than a stain in my memory.
I hear the shower running, but I don’t move. There’s no use. I’m trapped, a broken animal in a cage. So I just lie there and fume, and I cry. I cry for my mother, for what she had to endure that brought me into this world. For my brother, who died before he could inflict this torture on anyone else. I cry for myself, for what I have to look forward to for the rest of my fucking life.