Ch.48

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Alia

"I'm not done with you yet."

His words were nothing but a mere threat, sending sharp shivers down my fucking spine. As angry and frustrated I should be feeling for having him tie me up like this, I couldn't help but to feel absolutely attracted to it.

My hands were bound to each of my ankles, leaving my body humiliated and extremely exposed to him. Every twitch, every move of my hand only sent my legs opening up further, and trying to move my feet only sent my body leaning further into the ottoman with my ass up in the air.

I didn't have to see Antonio to feel the heat of his gaze piercing into my flesh, craving and devouring every inch of my body from the nape to the flower. His hand glided down my back, the chill of his silver rings just making me drip like a leaking tap. From my hips down to one of my cheeks, I yelped once he delivered a skin ripping slap onto my ass.

My flesh shook, and a bruising red mark was starting to appear on it once I took a glimpse of my rear in the mirror. His head lowered, pressing his lips against the mark once he successfully pulled a shameful moan from my throat.

"Fuck you." I hissed, my words an empty husk of vocabulary that had no real anger behind it. I wanted more—so much fucking more and I could literally feel my arousal sliver down my inner thighs.

Looking in the mirror, I watched as Antonio held his cock up, aligning it with my sopping wet pussy. He grazed the head against it teasingly, before pulling it back. "I don't like that tone." He said.

"Louder. Sterner." He grinned, looking down at my gaze through the glass. "Say it."

Oh this sly fucking asshole.

"Fuck. You." I growled lowly, looking at the cunning fucking smile he let run across his face before his flesh met my hole. He was so brutally slow and with every inch deeper, I felt his throbbing pick up. "Oh fucking Christ on a stick..."

"Such a dirty mouth." He tutted, shaking his head slowly as his hips thrusted til he was fully in. I let out a harsh groan, my body hiccuped. "Shit."

His head pulled back to let out a guttural groan and upon adjusting for a few seconds, he moved—no. That's not the word.

He fucking rammed.

The ottoman scratched lightly against the wooden floor on impact and my screams were literally louder than the voices in my head yelling at me to keep this dopamine flowing. His hand wrapped around my mouth and with a grunt, he hissed.

"Do I need to gag you?" He glanced down at the other ties and clothing on the floor. My eyes flickered down, following his gaze and with a slight grin spreading against his palm, I shook my head.

"No?" He asked in confirmation, not bothering to stop the brutal pounding into my body. "Because if the maids asked me what all that screaming was upstairs, I'm going to have to teach you some fucking manners."

His hips forcefully slammed against mine and he held it for a few seconds, his eyes rolling back before he closed them with a sharp inhale. "Do you want that?"

"No." My voice was muffled and with a gentle kiss to my chin, he smiled and kneeled back up to continue on with his pounding. God was that so fucking hot.

Bishop |18+|Where stories live. Discover now