Page 39 of Vengeful Vows

As he swirls his tongue around my clit, I move, struggling to keep my ass where he said.

He licks and sucks, driving me to the edge of distraction.

“Do you want to come, little flower?”

The nickname is unique to him. No one else has ever called me that, and it creates a bond that makes me feel special, and I love it.

“Little flower?” he repeats.

“Marse! Don’t stop!” His motions make me thrash. “I want to come.”

“Good. Now you may lift your hips, but only to grind your pussy against my face. If you want relief, you will hump me like my shameless hussy wife-to-be.”

I’m mortified. But he is true to his word. When I raise my pelvis, he does nothing.

“Marse…” I yearn to wrap my arms around him, probably more so because he has forbidden it.

“You know what to do. Fuck my face.”

My clit is throbbing so hard that I will die if I don’t orgasm.

Squeezing my eyes shut, as if that will block out the vision of him, I change my position so that my pussy is against his mouth.

“Much better. But you were told to keep your gaze on me.”

Does he forget nothing?

His breath is warm on me, and though this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, I circle my hips, moving against his mouth.

Instantly he rewards me, licking, sucking. “Give me more.”

Within seconds I am completely undone, becoming the shameless hussy he demands, writhing and pumping, sobbing while seeking satisfaction.

“That’s it.” He pulls back to spank my pussy once, and heat blasts through me, ratcheting my desire even higher.

Then he holds apart my labia and sucks on my clit while sliding a finger slightly inside my virginal sheath.

I’m losing control.

Then he eases his tongue inside me, making love to me with his mouth.

I can no longer hold on.

From the inside out, I fracture, screaming his name.

Marcello has destroyed me, and I’ll never be the same again.

The only things I’m certain of is that he owns me, heart and soul, and that I am going to marry him.

CHAPTERNINE

Nico

“Isyour ring on her finger yet?” Matteo’s clipped question ricochets across the phone line, buzzing in my ear.

I pace to the window of my condo and stare at the dark Houston streets below. The air is thick and heavy with clouds promising rain. In the distance, lightning flashes. “She is not from our world.”

“Which you knew when you decided you wanted her in your bed.”