Page 20 of King of Manhattan

I spank her again, harder this time, and her moan sends a surge of lust straight through me. “Do you like this, Emily?” I ask, my voice rough as my hand continues to rain down on her, each strike harder than the last.

“Yes,” she gasps, her voice trembling with need. “I love it, Vince… Please…”

“Please, what?” I demand, pausing just long enough to hear her beg.

“Please, don’t stop,” she whispers, her voice desperate. “Punish me… Make me yours again.”

Her words drive me wild. I bring my hand down one final time, the hardest yet, and she cries out, her body shaking with the force of it. But I know she’s not just feeling pain. She’s feeling exactly what I want her to feel—submission, desire, and the undeniable truth that she belongs to me.

When I’m satisfied that she’s learned her lesson, I pull her up and off my lap, turning her to face me. The look in her eyes—the desire, it feeds my soul.

“You belong to me, baby,” I growl, my hands moving quickly to strip the rest of her clothes off. I need her naked, vulnerable, completely at my mercy. I need to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

She doesn’t resist, letting me pull off every scrap of clothing until she’s bare before me. I waste no time stripping off my own clothes, the need to feel her skin against mine almost overwhelming. When we’re both naked, I push her onto the bed, positioning her on her hands and knees. The sight of her like this, waiting for me, trembling with anticipation, nearly pushes me over the edge.

I move behind her, gripping her hips, pulling her back against me. The feel of her soft skin, the way she’s already wet and ready for me, drives me to the brink of madness.

“Do you want this?” I ask, my voice low, dangerous.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Please, Vince… I need you.”

That’s all I need to hear. I thrust into her hard and deep, and the way she cries out, the way her body shudders, tells me everything I need to know. She’s mine, and I’m going to take her as hard and as long as I want.

I grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back, and the slight pain in her gasp only heightens my pleasure. “You’re mine, Emily,” I growl, my voice thick with dominance. “Say it.”

“Yours,” she gasps, her voice breathless, needy. “I’m yours, Vince.”

Her submission, the way she gives herself to me completely, drives me wild. I thrust into her again and again, my pace punishing, relentless. I’m not just fucking her—I’m claiming her, body and soul, and I won’t stop until she knows that she’s mine forever.

The sound of our bodies colliding, the rough, animalistic need in my grunts, the way her body tightens around me—it’s all too much. I can feel the tension coiling inside me, ready to snap, but I hold back, wanting to savor every moment, every sound she makes.

“Come for me,” I command, my voice low, rough. “Come for me, Emily, and know that you’re mine.”

Her body obeys, shuddering violently as she cries out, her release washing over her in waves. The sight of her losing herself to me, the feel of her pulsing around me, pulls me over the edge. I thrust into her one last time, my own release crashing over me, and I let myself fall, lost in the pleasure, in the knowledge that she’s the only one for me.

When it’s over, I pull out of her gently, turning her to face me as I gather her into my arms. “You’re mine,” I say again, my voice softer now, but no less firm. “Never forget that, Emily.” She smiles up at me, her eyes shining with love, with trust. “Never,” she whispers, resting her head against my chest, her body fitting perfectly against mine.

Epilogue

Six months later…

Emily

I adjust my knee-length dress and take a deep breath, studying my reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at me is different from the one who fled to Paris all those months ago. Her eyes are brighter, her smile more genuine. She looks... happy.

"Emily?" Vince's voice calls from down the hallway. "Are you ready? The guests will be here soon."

"Coming!" I call back, giving myself one last glance before heading out of our room.

Our new New York penthouse is all light and space, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of Central Park. It's our fresh start, away from the shadows of his past.

I find Vince in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a charcuterie board. He looks up as I enter, his eyes softening as they always do when he sees me. "You look beautiful," he says, pulling me in for a kiss.

I melt into him, still marveling at how right this feels. The past few months haven't been easy - we've had our fair share of arguments and tears as we navigated our new reality. But we've faced it all together, and we're stronger for it.

"Nervous?" Vince asks, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.

I nod. "A little. It's the first time we're hosting your family since... well, since everything."

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