Sold to Mr. Giordano

Arielle

•HONEYMOON•

I didn’t make a mistake… did I?

Antonio flips me so I’m on my back. His lips make my body limp and shake with excitement. His strong hands go underneath my nightgown and his fingertips brush the underside of my breasts. I gasp into his mouth and he takes that as an opportunity to thrust his tongue deeper, claiming me. My own fingers itch to brush against the hard rigids of his abdomen—his six pack and muscled biceps and pecs are due to the training all Made Men have, but not all look like him.

No, he spends a lot of his time and energy getting to look this good. His body is a powerful weapon and is one to be proud of. He shows it by radiating with cockiness and confidence. I can hardly think around the fact that he’s so strong, one wrong move and he could kill me in an instant. Kill me with the same hands that have killed countless Bratva, innocent men, and some of our own who have betrayed the Outfit and Famiglia.

The silk material of the light blue nightgown slides up my body, over the slopes of my breasts and then over my head. My chest rises and falls as my heart rate picks up and my palms sweat with nerves.

Tell him no before it’s too late.

I moan and arch my back as his thumb and index finger pinches and rolls my nipple. I push and rub my thighs together to rid of the throbbing sensation I’m now experiencing. He forces his own thigh between my legs as he maneuvers his body to rest between my open legs. Each leg hangs on either side of him leaving myself at his complete disposal.

There is no sign of cruelty in his touch and it infuriates me. I want him to be the bad guy, need him to be the bad guy. Need it because it gives me reasons to hate him, to hate this arrangement, to want to stay away.

The devil is calling me and my body is responding perfectly to his silent order.

My legs wrap around his hips pressing him further into me. His groin is pressed against mine and the only thing preventing our joining are the two thin materials of our undergarments.

The barrier is my savior, it’s the only thing allowing me to keep my virtue and as soon as it’s gone… there’s really no turning back.

I’m going to do what I swore I wouldn’t do.

There’s no way around it—get it over with.

Antonio’s fingers find the band of my lacy black underwear and slowly he pulls them down my hips and leans back on his knees to swing my legs together to get them off completely.

I make a small whimper and close my eyes tight. The fear he can probably read on me doesn’t stop him. He continues going until my underwear is down my ankles and soon, somewhere on the floor below us. He grabs both my knees and forces my legs apart once more.

Antonio bends down to my flat stomach leaving small open mouth kisses around my belly button causing a flutter of butterflies inside me. Instinctively, my hands dive into his hair and grab the strands keeping him at my stomach instead of lower. When his lips are an inch away from the coarse patch of hair I have, I start to push him off unsure of what I truly want.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

He shushes me sweetly and grabs my wrists holding them in place against the bed at my sides. I force myself to relax. I stare at the white ceiling above me and pray for this to be over quick. I’m sure if there was a mirror in front of me, my face would be crimson.

The first lap of his tongue on my most private and sensitive part is like combusting into wildfire. My back arches up, my breath hitches in my throat and my toes curl as I give into this new pleasure. I fight back the urge to wrap my legs around his neck and draw him closer to my damp heat.

“F-f-f…” I nearly curse and the memory of my father’s strict tone ordering me ‘not to swear, it’s not ladylike,’ makes me m my lips clamp shut. My hands rest of his shoulders pulling him away when the feeling makes me feel… feel… almost too good.

His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud of nerves and all the tension in my body builds up, but I don’t know how to chase its release.

Release. Mother always told me women don’t have orgasms—orgasms are for their husbands. In high school I learned the opposite that women could come too, but it was harder and required more attention. My friends all told me they could achieve it just by their hands. I was too scared to try, afraid of somehow leaving evidence of being touched.

I was never like the girls from high school who could lose their virginity whenever and their parents would never know and their future husbands would likely never care. Being a part of the Famiglia, the only thing important for women is they must be pure—their innocence given up on their wedding day and their groom chosen by their father. It is old fashion, but it is the way of the Mafia.

His tongue licks from the tight puckered hole of my taint and I stiffen until his tongue sweeps across the hole that is now drenched and back up to the nub. I’m withering in pleasure and suddenly I forget everything I was previously nervous about. I feel him penetrate me with his finger, the slight pain causes me to jerk but before I can protest, his lips suck on the bundle of nerves making me moan.

Antonio’s finger worms it’s way all the way to the knuckle and he hits a spot that has me seeing stars. All the tension inside of me explodes, my body shivers and shakes with unfathomable ecstasy. I cry out so loud I’m sure Carmelo could hear us in the hallway.

When I come to, I’m breathing hard and when my vision finally focuses—I see Antonio staring at me with hunger you would see in a lion’s eyes. I hadn’t notice in the midst of my orgasm that Antonio had added another finger inside of me and he was now stretching me out. I wince in slight pain and want to tell him to stop.

Without removing his fingers he hovers back over me and kisses me, I can taste myself on his tongue but I don’t care. I feel him shift and when I open my eyes I watch as he pushes his boxers down taking away the last obstacle. He presses his body flush against mine, our mouths dancing perfect harmony. I begin to forget where I am and who I’m who and what is about to happen. The kiss consumes me in every way possible.

My thought breaks when I feel something nudge against my opening. Antonio’s hand is between us lining himself up, I break the kiss and stare showing him the nervousness in my gaze. His stern stare and erratic breathing tells me my opportunity to say no was missed.

“Wrap your arms around my neck,” his deep voice sends a shiver down my spine. His commanding tone makes me act without reason as my arms wrap around him and pull him down to me. I hold him close and tight as I await pain.

The tip of him pushes inside of me at a leisurely pace. I gasp and hold him tighter, his lips kiss the shell of my ear and he calmly strokes my hair. “Tell me if you’re feeling uncomfortable,” he manages to rasp out.

“I’m uncomfortable,” I say hurried.

“Are you in pain?” He stops moving to search for answers in my eyes.

“I don’t know,” I whimper as he continues sliding in. It feels as though the penetration is endless and I know I didn’t get a good look and I don’t have much experience—but my bet would be on he’s bigger than other men.

 I feel a sharp pain that’s over almost as soon as it started. The pain becomes duller and eventually Antonio comes to a hilt. He rests his forehead against mine and keeps his eyes closed as if to channel his inner restraint.

 Most men are rough, so I’ve been told. I didn’t expect this kind of patience from the most ruthless man in the Outfit. He allows me to catch my breath until it turns more regular.

“Let me know when I can move,” he whispers.

I take this as an opportunity to seek comfort in his body, to hold him while I wait for the pain to subside. He spends our momentary pause to let me hold him while he leaves light kisses on my neck and plays with my breast.

He feels so full inside of me and it’s almost a fulfilling feeling, whatever pain there was is masked for now as the attention my nipple is getting makes my core ache.

“Move,” I finally say. He pulls back and automatically I gasp and clutch his back with my nails. “Wait, wait, go slow,” I beg.

  “I am going slow, Ary.”

  Ary? He’s never called me Ary before.

Antonio moves his body away from me and then thrusts back deep inside of me. The movement he provides is like itching an itch and I let out a soft moan. His tongue definitely provided more pleasure, but this wasn’t… horrible.

I find comfort in the closeness we’re sharing. I stare at him and watch as he gets lost in his own pleasure. I watch his muscles rip and flex as his magnificent body makes love to me—

 No, he’s not making love to you.

His thrusts get harder and faster and I wrap my arms and legs around his body so tight you would think I fear the moment this ends. My hand on the back of his neck presses him down so our foreheads once again touch and I can inhale the minty scent of his breath. He opens his lustful glazed over eyes, his pupils are so dilated I can’t make out the chocolate brown ring normally surrounding it.

Antonio grips my hips and thrusts so hard I cry out; the fast pace and low grunts tell me he’s close. The barely audible noises he makes, makes my entire chest flush with desire. He bends down and takes my breast in his mouth and I tip my head back in pleasure. My back arches and he uses that the snake his hands underneath me, grab my ass and pull him even closer against him. This makes the angle change and he hits a spot inside of me that would surely make me come at any rate—but I don’t.

Antonio’s thrusts become jerkier and more unrhymed and I feel him twitch inside of me—releasing inside of me. He softens and rolls over taking me with him so I’m on top of his chest. I press my ear against his chest and listen to the thumping of his rapid beating heart. I’m hiding a lot from him. I don’t know what caused me to speak. Forcefully I changed the topic of what I was about to tell him. I can’t reveal the truth.

“I don’t think Luca and Arabella should get married,” I speak up. His loud breathing stops as if he’s now holding his breath. “Can’t you put a stop to it?” I look up and decide to try out my puppy dog eyes.

“What?”

“Can’t you—”

“Why—” he crinkles his face in confusion. “Why are you thinking about this?”

“Well I just thought, I mean I want to help Arabella and I thought —” I can’t bring to truth of why I didn’t wanted to have sex with him. I don’t want to be attached with him.

“Now would be the perfect time?” He finishes my sentence for me but sounds ticked off.

 “Well no—” once again he interrupts.

“You thought now, right now, after we had sex that this would be the perfect time to bring up how you don’t want my cousin and your brother to get married?” He moves me off of him and I sit up clutching the comforter to cover my breasts. “Jesus Christ, Arielle. Is that why you had sex with me? You wanted to ask that of me? What the… what the fuck?!” He growls.

 “I don’t understand why you are so mad?”

“Can’t you have something too?” He mocks chuckling while mumbles under his breath. “I gave you an orgasm and went slow, that’s what I gave to you. I gave you the first time many women would dream of. Most men—especially Made Men—like to fuck their new virgin brides bloody. I thought,” he huffs out a laugh, “I thought since my wife is being so cooperative and sweet, maybe I’ll suppress my instincts—my primal need to fuck you and try to make it enjoyable for you!” He gets off the bed and paces.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mad,” I cross my arms. I wish I could tell him all the truth from the day before my birthday.

“Of course,” he pursues his lips and nods his head. “You manipulated me. You have just showed me the type of person you are. I knew this was a mistake.”

“What was a mistake?” I blink.

“It was a mistake to show an ounce of human decency to you. Don’t worry, next time we fuck I won’t hold back. I’m the Capo of the Outfit,” he says as if he’s reminding himself—not me. “Goodnight, Arielle.”