Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 225

Gianna's POV

Dante's eyes snapped open, pinning me with a look so intense, so heated, I almost forgot to breathe. "Keep talking like that and I'll forget all about you being sore."

"Promises, promises." I pumped him faster, my other hand moving to cup his balls, rolling them gently in my palm. They were heavy and tight. "Besides, you made me wait last night, remember? Made me beg and plead and sob for release."

"Gianna…" His voice was strained, his hips starting to move, thrusting up into my hand.

"You edged me over and over," I continued, my voice dropping to a sultry purr. "Brought me right to the brink and then pulled back. Made me so desperate I would have done anything, said anything, just to come."

"If you don't stop…"

"What?" I leaned closer, my breath hot against his ear. My breasts brushed against his arm. "What will you do? Punish me? Make me beg?" I nipped at his earlobe. "I seem to remember enjoying that last night."

His hand shot out, tangling in my wet hair and yanking my head back. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make his point. "You're playing a dangerous game, pretty doll."

"Then let me play." I stroked him harder, faster, watching the way his abs clenched, the way his breathing became ragged and uneven. "I want to see you lose control. I want to see the mighty Dante Deluca fall apart because of me, because of my hand on your cock."

Before he could respond, I took a deep breath and ducked underwater, taking him into my mouth.

"Fuck!" His shout was muffled by the water, but I felt his hips jerk forward violently, felt his hand tighten almost painfully in my hair.

I hollowed my cheeks, sucking hard as I bobbed my head. The taste of him flooded my tongue, salt and musk and pure masculine essence. I took him as deep as I could, relaxing my throat the way he'd taught me last night.

I came up for air, grinning at his wild-eyed expression. Water streamed down my face. "Sorry, what was that?"

"You're going to be the death of me," he growled, his chest heaving, his cock twitching in my hand.

"Nah." I stroked him again, my hand moving from base to tip in long, slow pulls. "But I am going to make you come so hard that this time you will forget your own name."

"Gianna, stop. I'm going to... Fuck!"

But I didn't stop. I ducked back underwater, taking him as deep as I could.

My tongue swirled around his shaft, tracing the thick vein along the underside. I bobbed my head faster, working him with my mouth while my hand stroked what I couldn't fit.

He was so thick I could barely get half of him down my throat, but I tried, relaxing and taking more.

His hand in my hair guided my movements, not forcing, just encouraging. I could feel him swelling even more, getting impossibly harder.

When I surfaced again, gasping for air, he was trembling. His whole body was tense, coiled tight like a spring ready to snap.

His grey eyes were glazed with lust, unfocused.

"That mouth," he groaned, his voice wrecked. "That fucking mouth of yours is going to kill me."

"What a way to go though," I teased, stroking him slowly, teasingly. "Death by blowjob from your beautiful young wife."

"Beautiful and insufferable," he corrected, but his hips were moving now, thrusting up into my hand with increasing desperation.

I could feel him swelling even more, getting rock-hard, and I knew he was close. But I wasn't ready to let him come yet, not when I could drag this out, make him as desperate as he'd made me last night.

So I slowed down, my strokes becoming lazy, almost languid, torturously light. "You know, I've been thinking..."

"Thinking?" He sounded strangled, his voice barely recognizable. "You've been thinking while you're jerking me off?"

"Mmhmm." I traced a thick vein along his shaft with my fingertip, barely touching. "About everything you said about revenge..."

"Gianna, please..."

"And I was thinking," I continued as if he hadn't spoken, my tone conversational, "that maybe you deserve the same treatment. Maybe I should edge you like you edged me. Bring you right to the brink..."

I pumped him faster, harder, my grip tightening until his whole body tensed, until his breathing stopped, until he was right there. Then I stopped completely, pulling my hand away. "And then pull back."

"Fuck!" The word was almost a shout, echoing off the marble walls. His hips bucked uselessly, seeking friction that wasn't there. "Gianna, don't you dare..."

"What?" I asked innocently, trailing just my fingertips along his length, barely any pressure at all. "I'm just giving you a taste of your own medicine. You said it yourself last night that anticipation makes everything better. Delayed gratification is the sweetest kind of pleasure."

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