Mistress to a Monster

It would be so easy to fuck her, but now he wanted to claim her asshole as well. No other man was going to go near her.

Just the thought of his guards looking at her filled him with jealousy, and he didn’t like those feelings.

Running his fingers through her slit, he pressed them inside her, watching her push against him, hungry for him.

With his digits slick from their combined arousal, he drew them back to rub against her asshole, getting her nice and slick, ready to take his cock.

She moaned as he did this, but as soon as he pressed his finger against the tight puckered hole, she tensed up. He wasn’t going to fuck her ass tonight. Not until he was guaranteed she was pregnant. Only when he knew she carried his kid would he fill her asshole with his cum, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun.

Grabbing his dick, he placed it at her entrance and pushed inside for a couple of inches, spreading her ass cheeks wide so he could watch his dick disappear into her sweet abyss. She was so tight. Even after he’d been taking her multiple times a day.

“Oh, fuck me, you feel good,” he said.

“Please,” she said, moaning.

He held her hips and fucked inside her. Holding her tightly, he gave it to her rough, just as he knew she liked it.

Her hands sank into the blanket, her knuckles white as she tried to contain her moans.

After a few sharp thrusts, he stopped but kept his dick balls deep within her.

“Damon?”

“Shh,” he said.

She whimpered and tried to rock back against him. For her trouble, he gave her ass a nice little slap, stopping her from moving.

She whimpered again, but this time, he kept her in place, not wanting her to move. “If you want to be allowed to come, then you are going to hold still. Do not move.”

“Damon? Please.”

“When I’m good and ready.” The truth was, he didn’t want to hold back. He was addicted to the feel of her cunt. How good she felt around his length. It was like she was made for him and him alone.

What man in his right mind would want to give that up?

Milah was fucking perfect. They were amazing together.

With his fingers still slick, he moved them back to her asshole. She tensed up but didn’t try to move away.

“Trust me, Milah.”

He was the last person she should trust, but she didn’t try to get away.

Rubbing against her anus, he pressed on the puckered hole, and she gasped. Her muscles were tight, but he was determined, and he filled her asshole.

Her pussy squeezed his dick even tighter, and with there still being no condom between them, he felt her get even more aroused as he pushed inside her ass.

She cried out.

Damon used a single finger, pushing in and out, taking his time and allowing her to get accustomed to it.

Reaching between her legs, he started to stroke her clit, rubbing that tender nub, and Milah went up in flames, just as he knew she would.

He wanted to take the time to explore some more, but he was so close.

Pulling the finger from her ass, he held her hips and fucked her long and hard, watching his cock. His length was covered in her arousal, and he soon joined her, falling over the peak.

Damon pushed as deep as he could get, wanting every single drop to soak her womb.

He closed his eyes, loving the feel of her mini-orgasm. Each time he came, it seemed to set her off, and afterward, they collapsed onto the bed.

Milah always tried to create some distance between them, but to make sure his cum had the best chance, Damon kept her locked against him, touching her.

He had soon come to realize that Milah didn’t have enough affection. Her father was cold, and he imagined he’d never truly cared for his daughter, and her mother was dead.

There was no one for her.

Glory had told him that she believed Milah was lonely. Being in this house, surrounded by people who hated the Russo, it made her loneliness even worse.

“Don’t you have some work to do? People to kill?” Milah asked.

“They can all wait.” He kissed her shoulder. “You never said if it was hard to see your dad.”

She let out a chuckle. “You want to make small talk?”

“It’s what we do.”

At the start, he had simply held her, but as the days changed, he had started to talk to her. Enjoying the soft, subtle tones of her voice as they filled a room.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“Do I have to have a reason?” he asked.

“No, I guess not, but it does seem odd that you would.”

He kissed her neck. “Nah, it’s not.”

“I’m a Russo, and our trip made it very apparent that you cannot even stand to be in the same room as one of us.”

“Are you a Russo?” he asked.