Arranged Deception Read Online C.C. Monroe

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
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“Am I doing okay?” Her eyes go doe-like, and I know what she’s wanting.

“So good. You’re taking me so well, principessa.”

“Yeah, does it feel good for you?”

As she lowers herself nearly to the hilt, I eye her deeply.

What is she doing?

How have I never experienced this type of lover in the bedroom? Submissive and needy? A turn-off to some, but for me—this is exactly what I want, right here and right now.

“Feels like you need to roll those hips and ride me.”

Throwing her head back, she does just that. And part of me instantly gets blood-boiling angry, filled with jealousy. She fucks good, and that means Damian had enough time to teach her.

I should have been her first.

“Faster and harder. Take it, Emelia. Don’t be shy,” I demand, grabbing her hips and helping her bounce, then drop all the way to circle her hips. But it’s not enough. I want to fuck the anger and jealously swirling in my stomach right out of me.

“Fuck this.” I move us swiftly, turning us so that I’m now on top of her. Taking her hands, I pin them above her head and start to thrust into her, trying to split her up the middle.

“Oh! Uh! Nico! Right there. That feels….” Her eyes roll back as I hit the perfect spot in her repeatedly.

“Yeah, no one has ever fucked you like this, have they?”

She doesn’t answer, and I'm sure it's because the pleasure is overstimulating, but I won’t take just her moans as obvious satisfaction.

“I want words.”

“No. No one has. Ever! I’m coming! Nico, I’m coming. Tell me to!” she screams, and my chest swells with pride.

“Come for your husband. Be my little slut and come for me.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She explodes around me, reaching her peak, and the vice grip her cunt has on my cock makes me join her just a few thrusts behind. I orgasm, spilling into her until she can’t take anymore. I keep at her until she’s begging me to stop, her core too sensitive.

In time, I finally and reluctantly let up. Rolling over, I look up at the ceiling and let nothing but our breathing carry throughout the room.

When enough time passes, I move first. Standing, I head to the bathroom, grab a warm washcloth, and bring it back to her.

“Open your legs, Emelia.” Shakily, she does as she’s told. “Good girl.” Taking the towel, I go to clean her, but something more sinister comes over me.

Leaning down and placing my knuckles on the bed next to her head, I whisper, “Just so we’re clear, that act made you irrevocably mine. I will not share you. Ever. Make sure you never forget that.” I place two fingers on her thigh and collect the come dripping from her. I move slowly upward, then slide those fingers inside her. “Keep every damn drop of me inside your snug pussy where it belongs.”

I own Emelia, and I don’t care what she fights me on. She will learn to love it. She licks her lips as she watches the action and hears my words. I can see that storm brewing again, this little sex fiend. She’s nowhere near done. She wants more. So much more. But I won’t give it to her. Making her sit at the edge of her seat while we bicker will be the best foreplay for the next hate-fuck session we have.

“Not tonight. I have a lot to do tomorrow. Relax and let me clean you up.” I do just that, and when I finish, I go to the bathroom and shower.

Halfway through, I see her enter without saying a word to me. Emelia moves toward the bath and lifts the handle. As the water starts filling the tub, I watch as she looks at the salts I had brought in for her. Dumping in one that smells of lavender and honeysuckle, she climbs in, and once she's settled, she turns and looks out the floor-to-ceiling window at the city.

Keeping her eyes there, she doesn’t even peer over at me once. But I, however, can’t stop watching her, wondering what is going through her mind. Wiping the glass, I get a better look through the steamed-up shower.

“I promise to find the men who organized the shooting tonight. Is that what you’re worried about?” I ask, placing both palms against the glass and waiting for her to make eye contact with me.

“Yes, I don’t know what I was expecting. It’s not like I thought my life would suddenly be different and I’d be safe.” Emelia still peers out the window, laying her head back on the curved lip of the tub.

“It’s going to be the opposite, Emelia. You’re now going to be at more events and social gatherings. You are the wife of a mafia king; your life is in significantly more danger. But I won’t let anyone hurt you. That is one thing I can guarantee. That’s why I have men with you all the time and insisted on the tracker.”


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