Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 217

Anna's POV

"I'm counting on it." I hooked my thumbs in my panties, dragging them down slowly, swaying my hips as I did. I turned around, bending at the waist to slide them down my legs, giving him a perfect view of my ass and my pussy.

The fabric slid down my thighs, past my knees, until I could step out of them completely.

I stood before him naked, and for the first time, I wasn't shy. I was confident in my body, in the effect I had on him. I wanted to push him, to make him lose that iron control he always maintained.

I slid my hand between my thighs, feeling how wet I already was. My fingers brushed my clit, and I gasped at the sensation.

"What if I just..." I circled my clit slowly, watching his face. "Touch myself right here? Would you stop me?"

"Fuck!" Dante was on his feet in a second, closing the distance between us. He swooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder.

I gasped, then laughed as he carried me to the bed and tossed me onto it.

I bounced slightly, breathless, still giggling. My breasts bounced with the movement, and I saw his eyes lock onto them.

He stood at the edge of the bed, looking equal parts furious and amused. "You know how to push all my buttons. What am I going to do with you?"

I raised my hand playfully, spreading my legs slightly to give him a view. "Whatever you want. I'm ready." I bit my lip. "Punish me."

He smirked, leaning down to hover over me. His hands caged me in, his face inches from mine. "No. You're too eager. If this is punishment, you're not supposed to be excited about it."

I pouted, pushing my bottom lip out. "Oh. Too bad. I thought I'd been a naughty girl."

"You have been." His eyes gleamed with mischief. "Which means I'll have to get creative. Real punishment is when you don't get what you want."

"I guess..." I trailed my fingers down his still-clothed chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath. "I'm the woman you married for a reason. I'll make you break first."

He captured my mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing whatever smart remark I was about to make. His tongue swept into my mouth, dominating, claiming. I moaned into the kiss, my hands fisting in his shirt.

His hands cupped my breasts, molding them, weighing them in his palms. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, and I arched into his touch.

"Perfect," he murmured against my lips. "So fucking perfect. These tits were made for my hands."

His mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down my jaw and my throat. When he reached my breasts, he paused, his breath hot against my skin.

Then his mouth closed around one nipple, and I cried out.

He sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. The suction was intense, almost painful, and pleasure shot straight to my core.

His hand found my other breast, his fingers rolling and tugging at the nipple there.

"Dante... oh God..."

He released my nipple with a wet pop, then blew cool air on it. I shuddered at the sensation.

"I love how responsive these are," he murmured, circling my nipple with his tongue. "How they get so hard for me."

He sucked it back into his mouth, harder this time, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

I moaned loudly, my back arching off the bed.

My hands flew to his hair, holding him against me.

He switched sides, lavishing the same attention on my other breast. He sucked it deep into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the nipple.

His hand played with the breast he'd just abandoned, pinching and rolling the wet nipple between his fingers.

"So beautiful," he praised, his voice muffled against my skin. "So fucking perfect. I could suck these tits for hours."

Back and forth he went, sucking, licking, biting gently. He'd suck one nipple until it was swollen and sensitive, then move to the other.

His hands were everywhere, caressing, squeezing, molding my breasts. He pushed them together and buried his face between them, groaning.

"I love watching you come apart for me," he said, lifting his head to look at me. My nipples were red and swollen, glistening with his saliva. "I love seeing these perfect tits marked by my mouth."

His mouth moved lower, his tongue tracing a path down the center of my body. He kissed my stomach and my hips, his hands spreading my thighs wide. My hands slid from his hair to his back, trying to pull him closer.

"I know just how to punish you," he rasped, his breath hot against the inside of my thigh.

"Whatever you want," I breathed, my voice shaky. "My body is yours."

He smirked, then his tongue slid lower, and lower still, until I felt it brush against my clit.

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