A Vow of Love and Vengeance

When I finally pushed my tongue inside her ass, she moaned, pushing back against me, seeking more. So sweet and responsive.

I chuckled as she squirmed beneath me. “Such a perfect, good girl.”

I pulled away from her, and she keened, her back bowing as though inviting me to take more. And oh, I would. I would desecrate her until all she thought about was me.

I dragged my fingers up her ass, covering her crack in blood before I spat on her hole, swirling the mess of body fluids together on a groan. “Fuck, you’ve never looked more beautiful, piccola. Like a goddess.” A filthy goddess bearing the stains of my touch.

I gripped her hips and lined up my dick with her ass. “I’d normally warm you up for this, Emilia. Work my fingers in this tight hole before I fucked you here, but…” I pressed against her, and she tensed. “You’re due a punishment.”

She fisted the sheets as she shook her head.

“So, relax, and let me in, princess. I promise after the sting, I’ll make you feel good.” I spat on her ass once more before pushing against the ring of muscle. “Breathe, piccola.” I pushed inside her, gritting my teeth at the tightness. If her pussy was perfection, then this was the sweetest form of torture.

“It hurts,” she moaned.

I reached beneath her and circled her clit as I brought my lips to her throat. “It’s supposed to. But we both know you like some pain, princess.” I kissed below her ear, circling her clit harder, faster. “Now take your punishment like a good girl.’

She moaned, her body giving to me, allowing me in inch by achingly tight inch. By the time I was buried inside her, I could barely breathe, and Emilia was on the verge of coming again. Her limbs shook before her arms gave out, and she sprawled chest down, ass up on the mattress.

“Do you want me to fuck this ass, Emilia?”

“Yes,” she whined.

I pulled almost all the way out and thrust back in on a groan. She cried out, her back bowing. God, I would never get enough of her. No matter what I gave her, she just took it and wanted more.

She cried my name as I fucked her, begging, clawing at the sheets as mascara streaked her cheeks. At the first clench of her body, I couldn’t hold off anymore. Pleasure tore down my spine like the lash of a whip, and I came so hard, my vision blacked out for a moment. She drained everything from me, wrung me out until my ears were ringing with the sound of her cries.

“Mine,” I breathed over her back, swiping my tongue over her sweat-slick skin.

When I pulled out, her entire body was shaking with aftershocks. I held her ass cheeks apart, watching my come trickle out of her, down to her bloody pussy.

“You look so beautiful leaking my come, Emilia.” I caught it with my finger, pushing it into her pussy. When I was done, she rolled onto her back, eyes closed, chest heaving.

She was filthy, defiled in every way.

As much as I wanted to leave her like that, I scooped her into my arms and carried her into the bathroom.

“No.” She buried her face in my neck. “Just let me sleep.”

I laughed. “I would love to let you sleep covered in blood, come, and sweat, princess.”

I placed her down in the shower stall, and her cheeks turned red once more. I dragged my thumb across her cheek. “I hope you always blush like this, Emilia. No matter how many times you beg for my dick.”

“I didn’t beg.”

I smirked and cut on the shower, waiting for it to warm before dragging her beneath the spray. “You definitely begged.”

She tipped her head back into the spray, and I brushed my lips over hers.

“Like the good little wife that you are.”

I washed every inch of her body, and for once, she made no objections. She didn’t tell me she could look after herself or that she didn’t need me.

When she was dry and dressed in one of my shirts, I got into bed, but she lingered beside it, her gaze darting between the door and me.

“Emilia,” I practically growled. “If you are thinking about running…” I realized how much I feared that. The last time I thought we were both on the same page, she had left in the dead of night and nearly gotten herself killed.

“No, I’m…” she rubbed at her arm. “I’m worried about Luca.”

I leaned back against the headboard and let out a breath. “He’s fine. Jackson may have roughed him up a little, but I assure you he will have had far worse.”

She dragged a hand through her hair before wrapping her arms around herself. She looked small, fragile, and I hated it. Hated that she seemed to carry the weight of her family on her shoulders. A family who hadn’t helped her when she needed it. Aside from Renzo, none of them had done enough.