Chapter 147: No One Dares Touch What’s Mine
DANTE’S POV
I pushed just the tip of my finger into her slick heat, and she cried out in pleasure.
“You’re so fucking tight,” I growled, pushing my finger in deeper. “So perfect.”
She was wet enough that my finger slid in easily despite her tightness, her body welcoming the invasion even as it stretched to accommodate me. I pumped my finger slowly, feeling her inner walls flutter and clench around me.
“More,” she begged. “Please, Dante, more.”
I added a second finger, then a third finger, stretching her further. She gasped, her head falling back against the wall. Her body resisted at first, so tight I had to work my fingers in carefully.
But she was so wet, her arousal easing the way, and soon she was taking all fingers deep.
“Look at you,” I said, watching her face. “Taking my fingers so well. Opening up for me even though you’re so tight.” s
I curled my fingers, finding that spot inside her that made her see stars. She cried out my name, her body jerking in my arms.
“That’s it, pretty doll.” I stroked her G–spot deliberately, my fingers pumping in and out of her tight heat. “Feel how good I make you.”
“So good,” she moaned. “So good, Dante.”
My other hand gripped her ass, holding her steady against the wall as I worked her with my fingers. She was panting now, her body trembling, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically around my fingers.
“Would you let anyone else touch you like this?” I asked, my voice taking on a darker edge.
“No,” she gasped. “Never.”
“Never?” I thrust my fingers harder, deeper. “What if Niccolo wanted to touch this sweet pussy? Would you let him?”
“No!” Her eyes flew open, meeting mine. “Only you, Dante. Only you.”
“What if he tried?” My voice dropped to a sinister tone. My fingers never stopped their relentless pace, stroking her G–spot with precision. “What if he put his hands on you? Tried to touch what’s mine?”
“I wouldn’t let him,” she moaned, her hips rocking against my hand.
“And if you did?” I leaned in close, my lips brushing her ear. “If you ever let another man touch you… if you ever spread these legs for someone else… do you know what I’d do?”
She whimpered, her body tightening around my fingers.
“I’d break every finger that touched you.” My voice was sinister, calm, like I was discussing the weather and not violence. “One by one. I’d make you watch while I snapped each bone. Make you listen to them scream.”
“Dante…” She was gasping now, caught between fear and arousal.
“And then…” I added a fourth finger, stretching her impossibly tight channel.
She cried out, her body struggling to accommodate the intrusion even as her wetness eased the way. “I’d put my gun in your hand.”
My fingers pumped faster, harder, hitting her G–spot with every thrust. Her body was shaking, her moans getting louder.
“I’d make you point it at his head.” I could feel her getting close, her inner walls starting to flutter. “And I’d wrap my hand around yours and make you pull the trigger.”
Chapter 147 No One Dores Touch What’s Mine
+30 Bonus
“Oh God,” she sobbed, her body tensing.
“I’d make you watch his brains paint the wall.” My thumb found her clit, circling it with firm pressure. “Make you see what happens when someone tries to take what’s mine. And then…”
I thrust my fingers deep, curling them hard against her G–spot while my thumb pressed down on her clit.
“Then I’d fuck you in his blood. Make you scream my name while you’re covered in the evidence of your betrayal. Show you who you really belong to.”
Her body was right on the edge, trembling violently, her pussy clamping down on my fingers. She was so close I could feel it in every quiver of her muscles.
“Dante… please… no…” she protested weakly, but her body told a different story. Her hips were grinding against my hand, chasing the release I was building in her.
I pulled my fingers out abruptly, and she cried out in frustration. Her eyes flew open, desperate and needy.
“You’re not allowed to come yet,” I said darkly, my eyes burning into hers. “Not until I say so. Not until I’m the one making you fall apart.”
Her eyes lit up with understanding, as she nodded frantically, willing to accept whatever I demanded.
I lowered her slowly, letting her feet touch the ground. Her legs were shaking so badly she could barely stand, so I held her against me while I worked at my belt with my free hand.
The need coursing through me was overwhelming, I’d held back for so long, denied myself for months while I prepared her, trained her, made her mine in every way except the one that mattered most.
My pants hit the floor, and my cock sprang free, hard and aching. I’d been fighting this erection all night, watching her in that dress I’d chosen, knowing what was underneath, knowing she was mine. The precum leaking from my tip was evidence of just how much control I’d been exercising.
I needed to feel her. Needed her wet heat against me, even if I couldn’t be inside her yet.
I gripped her hips and lifted her again, positioning her against the wall. This time, when her legs wrapped around my waist, there was nothing between us. My bare cock pressed against her slick entrance, and we both groaned at the contact.
“Fuck,” I growled, feeling how wet she was, how ready. It would be so easy to just… thrust up. To sink into her tight virgin heat
easy! and make her mine completely.
I rubbed my cock against her, coating myself in her arousal. The head of my cock circled her entrance, teasing, tempting. My primal instinct pushed me to drive into her, to claim her, to make her mine in every way possible.
Her body opened for me slightly, her entrance yielding to the pressure of my cock. I could feel how tight she was, teel her body trying to pull me in even as I held back. It would hurt her, she was so tight, and I was not a small man.
But God, I wanted it. Wanted to feel her stretch around me, wanted to hear her cry out my name as I filled her for the first time. The thought of being the first, the only, man to ever be inside her made my cock throb against her entrance.
Months of restraint, of holding back, of training her body to respond to mine without taking what I truly wanted… it was all coming to a head now.
“Yes… Dante… I need…” she whimpered, her hips trying to push down onto me.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
