My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 45

Chapter 45: 46/Stripping The Titles

Chapter46

Robert’s Point of View

That look... her eyes, drowning in tears yet armed with defiance at the same time, formed a provocative contradiction in its finest form.

How dared she call me by my bare name? "Robert"... she uttered it as if I were not that man whom everyone trembles at the mere mention of his name, as if I were not the master of this place and her owner.

I felt an overwhelming urge to crush her in the most hideous ways, to break that stubbornness peeking out of her eyes, but I turned and left the room without saying another word; staying there meant losing my total control.

I headed with angry strides to Sarah’s room. I opened the door with slight violence; she was still there, sitting on the bed in her red dress that screamed sexiness, but her face bore expressions of amazement and fear.

Never had Sarah, nor any girl here, seen another girl possessing a private key granted by me, and more importantly, no one had ever witnessed a girl calling me an "idiot" to my face and remaining alive.

A terrible sense of defeat washed over me, and Carlos’s words echoed in my mind like a thunderbolt:

"You lost to her, Robert."

I slammed the door shut behind me and moved toward Sarah with heavy, steady steps.

She was visibly trembling for no apparent reason, and compared to Julie’s legendary steadfastness when I stormed her room, Sarah’s trembling seemed faint, routine, and boring.

I took off my jacket and tossed it aside, leaning over her body with a pressure I couldn’t suppress.

Sarah lay back in total submission, a submission I was familiar with and accustomed to from all women, but tonight it did not satisfy my ego.

I placed a harsh kiss on her tense neck, then moved my lips upward until they met her full lips, and began devouring them with strength and violence, trying to drive Julie’s specter out of my imagination, and trying to prove that I was still the "Master" here.

Sarah’s arms wrapped around my neck, responding to my wild desire, and while I was immersed in touching her, the image of Julie shouting in my face "Stop" haunted me behind my eyelids.

While Sarah was lost in her usual response, performing movements she had memorized by heart to please me, I was in another world.

Her fingertips moved lightly to free me of my shirt and belt, and my body heat was rising not only because of desire, but because of the boiling that "curse" had left in her room next door.

I stripped her of her red dress and began fondling her body with cold professionalism, pressing on her pleasure points that I knew well until her moans began to rise and fill the room, as if she were trying to beg for my full attention.

But, for the first time, I felt as if I were performing a theatrical play.

She spoke in her trembling voice, pleading:

"Please, enter it inside my vagina now, I can’t take it anymore."

Sarah’s pleas were fuel for my wounded arrogance. In this room, I am the God, the commander, and the prohibitor.

The word "Please" that Julie uttered with brokenness there, Sarah was uttering here with lust and total submission. This is the place where heads bow, and this is the body that knows no rebellion.

I enjoyed her humiliation for moments, lingering in fondling her with a deadly coldness to make her crave my rescue, and when her body’s boiling reached its peak, I thrust my penis inside her wet vagina with all my vigor.

Her scream that pierced the silence of the room was the music I needed to forget the sound of my pride shattering in the hallway.

"Oh yes... this is what I want!"

She shouted as she dug her nails into my back, while I was thrusting inside her with a savage rhythm, trying to grind into her body every image of Julie, and every insulting word she had directed at me.

I was having sex with Sarah, but I was actually settling my score with the one lurking behind the locked doors.

Sarah’s words mixed with moans were the antidote I needed to repair my scratched pride.

"You are mine, Sarah,"

I said as I buried my gaze in her wandering eyes, as if I were confirming this fact to myself before confirming it to her.

She replied while licking her finger, in a scene that combined the peak of pleasure and the pain of submission:

"Yes... I am all yours, Mr. Robert... do with me as you wish."

This total confession of slavery was what I lacked in my confrontation with Julie. Sarah gives me absolute sovereignty; she grants me the keys to her body and soul without condition or restriction.

I pulled my penis out of her for a moment, leaving her panting and struggling to regain her ragged breath that rose and fell in sheer chaos.

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