Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 231

Gianna's POV

Dante settled between my thighs, his weight supported on his forearms. Instead of pushing inside, he gripped himself at the base, dragging the thick head through my folds.

I gasped at the sensation, my hips jerking upward.

"Patience," he murmured, repeating the motion. The blunt tip grazed my clit, sending sparks of pleasure through me, then slid lower to circle my entrance. "Let me get you ready."

"I am ready," I protested, but my voice came out breathy and desperate.

"Not quite," he said, gathering the wetness pooled at my entrance and using it to coat his length. He stroked himself slowly, spreading my arousal along every inch. "You're still swollen from last night. I need to make sure you can take me."

The sight of him touching himself, slick against my core, made more wetness seep out of me.

He continued the torturous glide, the head parting my folds, teasing my entrance before sliding up to bump against my sensitive clit.

"Dante," I whimpered. "Please..."

"Almost there, pretty doll." He positioned himself at my entrance, the tip pressing just barely inside. "Last chance to change your mind. Once I'm inside you, I don't know if I'll be able to stop. And you know what that could mean."

My heart rate spiked. The rational part of my brain screamed that this was reckless, that I didn't want to get pregnant, that we should wait. But the need burning through me drowned out every reasonable thought.

"Well," I let out breathlessly, trying to joke even as desire consumed me, "I suppose there are worse things than having your baby, though preferably not for another year or so."

He scowled. "Gianna..."

"I know the risks," I whispered, reaching up to cup his face. My body was making decisions my mind couldn't override. "I know we should be more careful. But I need you, Dante. Right now, I need you more than I need to be sensible."

His throat worked as he swallowed hard. "You're sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything." My hips tilted upward, trying to draw him deeper. "Please."

"Good girl."

Then he pushed forward, slowly sinking into me inch by inch.

The stretch was immediate but different from last night. My body remembered him now, accommodating the intrusion with less resistance. There was still a slight sting, a reminder of my lost virginity, but it faded quickly as pleasure began to build.

I whimpered, my hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Dante froze. "Breathe," he instructed, his voice strained. "Just breathe for me, baby."

I focused on breathing, on relaxing the tension in my body. The fullness was overwhelming but not painful, just incredibly intense.

"Okay?" he asked, his forehead resting against mine. "Talk to me."

"Okay," I managed. "Just give me a second."

"Take all the time you need." His hand cupped my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. "We're not in a hurry."

But I could feel the tremor in his muscles, see the sweat beading on his forehead from the effort of holding still. It must be costing him everything to wait like this.

"Move," I whispered after a moment. "Please, I need you to move."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Please, Dante."

He pulled back slowly, almost completely, before pushing forward again with exquisite care. The friction sent sparks of pleasure racing through my body, overriding any lingering discomfort.

"Fuck," Dante cursed, his forehead dropping to mine. "You feel incredible. So tight and hot and perfect."

"More," I pleaded, my hips trying to rock against his. "Please, Dante."

He withdrew slowly, then pushed back in with a controlled thrust that made me cry out in pleasure.

"Dante... yes..." I moaned loudly, my voice echoing off the walls.

The pain had faded completely, replaced by a delicious fullness that made me crave more.

"Like that?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Yes," I gasped. "Just like that."

Dante began to move with purpose, each thrust driving deeper and sending waves of pleasure through me. His hand slid between our bodies, finding my clit and circling it in time with his movements.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his gaze locked on mine. "Taking me so well. Pretty doll you're made only for me."

"Only you," I agreed breathlessly, the pleasure building impossibly high.

His pace increased, driving into me with more force, and I could feel another orgasm approaching. But there was something different in Dante's expression now, a tension, a struggle for control.

"Harder," I breathed. "I can take it."

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