The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Chapter 28

I don’t doubt he has the skill and lack of moral compass to do so. The man doesn’t have a conscience. He brings his forehead to mine and looks me dead in the eye, both of us immobile and silent as so much tension in the air crackles around us. My insides have turned to ash and I know I’m about to endure brutality like I never imagined.

I stifle a sob, my body shaking visibly, and yet he just sucks all the air out of me with one swift move. Alexi kisses me. Completely blows my head out of the water as he forces his mouth on mine and I respond, somewhere between relief and primal urge from high adrenaline. Kissing him back, letting myself go with a surge of craziness. My fingers framing his jaw instantly, his arms are around my waist in a second and he’s pulling me against him with a hunger that hits us like a typhoon. It’s like being dropped in a hot pool of water after being out in the cold, body heat and impulsive reactions are sizzling crazily and we both seem to lose all control.

I can’t stop him and yet my mouth won’t stop pulling at his; surrendering, caressing his tongue and biting his lip as he lifts me from my feet and pushes me back against the wall with the same force. He’s not gentle in any way, not that I ever expected he would be. Harshly pushing me and gripping so that I know his attentions will leave my skin bruised, yet it just makes me crave for more. My fingers raking his scalp as I try and curl them into his hair which is barely long enough to get a grip of. I want him so badly I lose all inhibition. Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

His hand cups my breast as he pushes against me and next thing I know I’m on the floor, my body meeting ground abruptly and winding me with the force. He’s on top of me, yanking my knickers off roughly, ripping them free and burning my skin cruelly as my nails rake his body, and he pushes my legs open with a knee. He shoves his own underwear down far enough to get free and I arch when I feel him spring against me, teasingly good. He kisses me fiercely, teeth hitting teeth, biting my lip and devouring me like a hungry animal—all over its dying prey and ravenous.

He doesn’t care about how rough and unsynchronised this is; it’s just pure animal. I was right about one thing—he has hot Italian blood, and this is mind-blowingly hot. I feel his erection out with one hand and grasp it tight enough to make it grow harder; rubbing him, clutching at him and suddenly consumed with a need to feel it inside of me. I’m practically begging him to do this and no longer feel anything except an all-consuming burning need to have him in me. Cravings so strong it feels like I’m an addict needing a fix. I may lose my mind if he doesn’t give it to me.

There’s no gentle or slow about it as Alexi grabs my wrists and pins me to the floor roughly, almost slamming my arms against the hard surface as I yelp. He moves to bite and kiss my neck, lifting and arching his body to fit mine and then practically pushes me across the surface with one almighty thrust —with a cruel force he rams himself into me spectacularly. I cry out with a muffled moan as his shoulder covers my mouth and stifles it. There’s no work up, foreplay or anything preluding to sex and now I know how he’s choosing to punish me for hitting him.

Even though it’s consensual and I wanted this, there is no pleasure in what he does to me and I’m reminded that Alexi is a bastard of epic proportion and not someone you ever fuck with. I hit him and therefore he made sex his weapon, making a point of hurting me in response. This is his brutal payback. He doesn’t hit women, but he finds other more sadistic ways of getting his own back.

A few seconds of burning, stinging and discomfort; he grinds into me, filling me, making my body rise and fall with every thrust and despite myself and how much I am screaming inside my own head about how much I hate him—I start to moan out with every thrust and movement as he slows and starts to circle against me more evenly. It’s almost as though he’s now trying to get me to feel some pleasure. I took my punishment, a stinging quick pain that equals the one I gave him and now he’s over it.

Alexi is a sadistic wanker. I wasn’t ready for him, yet somehow so quickly my body is finding something worthy of enjoying this. I can’t move, he is making sure my protests to being restrained are ignored and I’m literally held, arms and legs open and wide for him to take me any way he pleases. I can handle this face on though, my issue is being taken from behind.

His aggression is abating, and he seems to be getting into a more relaxed rhythm as the first sharp pain numbs into aching and longing. I bite his mouth when he comes for another kiss, angrily and passionately, and he grins instead, that sadist in him enjoying my fight and I just fight harder. Fuelled with my rage that he would fuck me like this as a punishment for defying him.

I want him, but I also want to hate him, and I am not giving in like some wanton wench that easily. I turn my face away from another attempt at a kiss and he swoops in at my ear instead, biting the lobe as I bite on my own lip in ecstasy. Alexi may be a rough and selfish lover, but he has natural skills in firing a woman’s body to a fever pitch, and I am not immune. It’s all that solid mass of muscle and testosterone. He has ample equipment and there’s not much he can do wrong when his natural size hits every good spot inside of me. He can be a lazy lover when he has the right tools that require minimal effort.

Wriggling my wrist free until he lets it go, he cups my throat instead as he slows his movements and eases into me purposely, while still holding me captive. Finding his rhythm and a more comfortable position.

I grasp at his bicep, but a wave of pleasure shoots through me and I arch against him in the sweep of body weakening goodness—a little shocked. No man has ever got me to cum without a lot of self- pleasuring during the act, so to have him find the spot to hit while forcefully taking me, completely hits me with surprise. Another shooting waving of tingles and low stomach butterflies hit home. I pant as he thrusts deeper inside of me once more; it’s the build-up of an orgasm alright and I begin to writhe around, unable to stop myself from moaning out, aching for him to give me my release.

For the bastard that he is, sex is mind-blowing with him and it just grates on me that he isn’t even trying to make it good. It’s a total fluke that my body just works with what he’s got. The floor is hard cold wood beneath me and with his weight and cruel body pressing down on me it all adds to the discomfort, yet the pleasure too. I can feel every bone chafing against the hard surface with his weight bearing down on me, but I don’t want to change position as my pleasure builds. It’s all too good.

He lets my other wrist go so he can put his palm on the floor and lifts himself up, so his torso is high above me and releases some of the uncomfortable pain in my back. Thrusting, pushing, screwing me harder and faster while still holding my throat tightly, yet he’s no longer hurting me. All I can do is clutch at his arms and hold on for the ride. Closing my eyes and breathing hard through every thrust of intense pleasure. Now I get why women sound like they do when his captive victim, I’m moaning out like a dying animal and making noises I never usually make. I won’t forget this in a hurry anyway.

Alexi has just ruined me for any other man ever again.

He leans back down and captures my mouth for a kiss, getting another bite from me and I dig my nails into his biceps as I do so. Wounding him, making it clear I am so pissed for what he just did to me, and I am not going back on the no kissing thing yet again. All I get is another smile, another smug confident look and more length pushed inside of me, slowly, teasing my body to insane levels of need. He likes to torture in any way he can and it’s clear that sex is another tool he has harnessed to use to his own agenda. I am not the first women he’s both tortured and pleasured to get his sick sadistic kick. It’s written all over him.

‘’I’m not sorry … if you hit me I find other ways to hurt you. If you don’t want me to fuck you that way then keep your hands to yourself. An eye for an eye.’’ He pushes against me some more and I close my eyes, moaning and arching below him as heat and fire spread up my limbs and I grip his shoulders cruelly. Digging nails into him in a bid to tell him to fuck off, while caught in the throes of a building throbbing pleasure. When he pulls back and stops abruptly I blink my eyes open in protest and see just how satisfied he looks. That evil glint of smug because he knows he has me teetering on the edge of an explosive orgasm, and he’s denying me it.

‘’You’re a bastard you know that?’‘ I blurt out in the respite of his still body, glaring furiously at him for stopping mid-climax. Hating him with a passion. He leans up over me, not moving and still inside of me, then he let’s go of me to rest both palms on the floor on either side of my head. I feel completely

hemmed in and trapped under the bulk of him with my legs propped up around his hips, but I can’t exactly move. He has me pinned down in the most pornographic way, impaled to the floor. Not that I’m complaining.

‘’I don’t care. I’ve told you once; don’t test me as you won’t like what I am capable of. You’re lucky I am in a good mood.’’ He twitches an eyebrow sarcastically and I just shove at his chest and try to push him off. Rage firing out of every pore as I realise he has no intention of letting me cum and this is all about control and cruelty. Getting the upper hand.

‘‘If you’re finished then get the fuck off me.’’ I snap at him, but Alexi just laughs coldly.

‘‘Baby, you’ll know when I am done, just play nice and I might move us from here to something a little comfier. Play nice and I’ll be nice. I might let you finish.’’ It’s that hint of truth which sets me off again, that love- hate thing I have going on for this man and his eternal skill at pissing me off, no matter what we are doing. Internal rage erupting from my volcanic temper.

‘‘What to all fours? Like you wanted me originally? I think I hate you and nice isn’t in your vocabulary or your genetic makeup.’’