Chapter 27: Forgiveness
I listen to the creek of the wooden door, muffled by the duvet over my head. Slow footsteps stalk closer towards me as they get louder. I sit up in the bed, facing my demons head-on. His hard menacing face holds mystery and a punishing expression.
"Come," his cold voice orders as he stands at the end of the bed, his eyes drilling into my soul, wanting to rip me apart. I hesitantly crawl over to him, unable to take my eyes away from his. I sit on my heels, staring up at him with wide eyes. He grips my jaw, pulling me closer. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I'm sorry," I whimper pathetically. But I should be begging right now. I don't know how he'll react, I don't know if he still wants me.
"Really?" He squeezes my jaw tighter, but I'm used to it by now. I just want his forgiveness. I love him. I reach up to his belt, and start to undo it until his hands clasps around mine and I look up to him again. "What are you doing?"
"I'm asking for your forgiveness... master," I tell him, biting my lip seductively. This is how I was taught to ask for forgiveness. It should help me now. His lips twitch when I call him master but he still keeps my hands in his tightly. He pushes me back and crawl onto the bed, on top of me, hovering over me. He pins my hands above my head and looks me up and down. I'm still wearing my dress and it rides up just below my ass. The straps are all over the place, hanging off my body. He spreads my legs and rests between them, keeping eye contact with me the entire time.
"Belle," he whispers, his lips just above mine, brushing them. "You are not some common whore." I furrow my eyebrows, pouting slightly which bring his lips on mine, but he doesn't move them. "You are my queen." This makes me even more confused. What is he saying? "You don't have to blow me like payment for my forgiveness." He kisses my lips, tugging on my lower lip with his teeth. "You love me, gattina?"
"Yes," I breathe out, muffled by his mouth on mine. "Do you love me?"
"More than you know." He loves me? He's forgiving me. For lying. Because he loves me. His hand snakes around my back and tugs down on the zipper. "You want this?" His hand moves down to cup my sex, squeezing in question.
"I want you," I reply, my hands going once again to his belt. This time, he allows me to tug it off. He becomes impatient, ripping his slacks off his body and pulling down his boxers, releasing his cock. He then proceeds to toss my dress and underwear aside, leaving me naked at his mercy. His lips suck harshly on my neck, his hands roaming my body like he doesn't know where to go. They land on my pussy lips, his fingers circling my clit. He moves down to taking one nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip. As his fingers dip into my hole, I cry out his name.
His thrusts are deep and slow as he curves his fingers further into me. I dig my nails into his back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he's giving me. He pulls out of me all of a sudden and I whine from the loss of contact. It's soon replaced with his big dick filling me up.
"You like my dick, bambina?" he asks, matching his pace with the one he had before with his fingers.
"Yes," I reply, scrunching the bed sheets beneath me.
"How much? Tell me how much," he demands. He loves talking dirty to me, and when I talk dirty to him.
"I love your big dick in my tight little pussy, Enzo. You fit so perfectly inside me," I tell him and this makes him grin, pounding into me faster and with more fervor.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful, gattina," he exclaims. His graveled groans like a crumbling mountain fill the room, hitting off every wall. I feel myself climbing higher and higher, and I know he knows I'm going to climax very soon. "Remember that you have to be a good girl and ask for permission, piccola."
"Please, Enzo, can I cum?" I beg, lost in my world of ecstasy.
"Cum for me, bambina," he allows and I cum right at his words, collapsing around him. This time, he climaxes right behind me, squirting his load, coating my walls.
He falls on top of me, not pulling out yet and getting us under the covers. He stares at me like he could never look away, his eyes fixated on me. He hugs my waist to his waist, his hand sliding down lower to my ass and resting there as he continues to watch me.
"I'm your queen?" I ask in a small voice.
"Yes, gattina, you are. No one has melted my heart and I've never fallen in love with a girl. Yet, you are a perfect match for me." He strokes my cheek, pressing his lips to mine. "But don't think I'm soft, gattina. Only around you will I be so lenient, and next time you lie to me like this, there will be serious consequences. You understand?" I nod profusely.
"I won't lie to you again."
"Good. My profession, being in charge, I have to be cold, gattina. That's what the job needs and that's what I am. I won't change for you, don't expect me too. But I can love you, and protect you, and care for you. Nothing will happen to you. You'll be safe."
"Thank you," I mutter and his eyebrows furrow at me in confusion.
"For everything. For making me feel safe. For making me feel wanted. For making me feel loved." I smash my lips on his and he welcomes it, kissing me back, plunging his tongue into my mouth and flicking it with mine.
We make out for what feels hours, him pulling my hair or squeezing my ass or rolling on top of me. He'll keep me safe. Because I know he loves me. No one has ever loved me before. No one has cared enough to keep me safe. I love him so much.
The next morning, I'm met with his smiling asleep face. It's incredibly charming and not at all dark whilst he's sleeping. His eyes generally add to the brooding aura that surrounds him. Now, he's smiling. His eyes flick open and his smile fades like wild fire. But it isn't replaced with anything dark or angry, instead he looks entranced.
"Morning," I mutter, pecking his lips to test the waters. His hands find my bare ass, squeezing lightly as he maintains eye contact with me.
"I love waking up to see you," he tells me. I decide to be a little bolder this morning as I feel his erection poking my stomach. I climb on top of him and straddle his legs. He watches me in confusion but when I take his length in my hand and begin stroking, he throws his head back and growls. I know he loves control so I lock with his eyes as I continue to slide my fingers up and down his member.
"I'm all yours. You own me. Tell me what you want," I purr and another growl escapes him.
"Put my big cock in that pretty little mouth of yours," he demands and I obey instantly. I look up to him for more instructions and he smirks at me. He loves being in control, even though he knows I know how to pleasure him. "Suck hard and slow." I do as he tells me, letting his hand come to my hair and grip when I start my pace. Soon enough, he pushes my head up and down, willing me to go faster. I gag a little on his cock but the way he growls makes the heat pools between my legs.
As if reading my mind, he lifts me up and grabs my jaw, but passionately rather than roughly.
"Ride me, gattina," he orders. I lower myself down on his cock and it fills me up and stretches me out. I let out a loud moan once he's fully inside of me but his groan is so much louder, like music to my ears, making me wetter for him. His hands rest on my hips as I rock them into him, grinding myself on him. His hands slide down to my ass as he slides me up and down on his cock, squeezing my ass even more. His hips come up to meet my thrusts, getting faster and harder and deeper into me. A knot forms in my stomach, I'm building up and reaching my climax. I open my eyes to see his eyes fixed on my chest, watching my breasts bounce up and down. I can't hold on anymore so I cum on his cock, forgetting to ask permission. He cums after me, spilling his seed into me.
Once he finishes with a few more thrusts in me, he lifts me off him and pulls me over his lap with my butt in the air.
"What did I tell you, gattina?" he questions, his hot panting breaths hitting my ear and fanning my neck.
"To ask permission for me to cum," I reply. He brings his hand down on my ass playfully and I gasp at the force.
"Count for me. You're getting fifteen spanks. Count," he demands. He spanks me hard but it makes my juices flow down my legs.
"One," I whimper. After fifteen more strokes, I can tell my ass is painted red, but I don't care. I love him, and I'm incredibly turned on by my punishment. After his last hit, his hand trails under to my pussy and he groans.
"So fucking wet, bambina." And we go again.