Page 3 of His Dark Possession

The second Gabriella stepped through the door, an undeniable wave of recognition washed over me. I was staring at the woman I had only glimpsed in photographs, yet here she was, vibrant and real. Her shapely legs, adorned with an array of bold and trashy tattoos that I fervently hoped were mere ink and not a permanent part of her, drew my attention instantly. Those beautiful brown eyes sparkled with laughter and mirth, radiating a warmth that was both inviting and disarming. The small, playful curve of her lips when she smiled at me sent a jolt of something electric through the air.

I couldn’t quite grasp why my fiancé was at my bachelor party, a twist of fate that felt both odd and exhilarating. Rafael’s words echoed persistently in my mind:‘Make sure she knows from the first night that you’re the one in charge.’Though I was aware that this was not what he had intended, I hadn’t anticipated seeing her until the rehearsal dinner. Our ‘first night’, so to speak, would have been our wedding night, wrapped in the promise of new beginnings. But now, here she was in my penthouse, clad in sexy lingerie that accentuated every curve, baring a body that onlyIshould have the right to behold. Itseemed that tonight had transformed into our first night after all, and I was determined to show her who was in charge, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of my resolve.

Gabriella squirmed on my lap beneath my firm grip, her initial confidence evaporating like mist in the morning sun. A fierce spark ignited in her gaze as she looked at me, the intensity of her expression suggesting that she believed I couldn’t possibly feel the heat radiating from her center, pressing against me with an urgency that was both intoxicating and challenging. “Let me go, Antonio,” she demanded, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and vulnerability that only deepened my desire to establish my dominance.

She deserves to be reprimanded for what she’s done. No wife of mine will be parading her half-naked body around my men, flaunting herself as though she were some common harlot. I don’t care if she’s wearing a wig and is practically unrecognizable; it’s the principle of the matter that matters most. “You’re my property,Angel,and I can do whatever I want with you,” I assert, my voice low and steady, a firm reminder of the boundaries she has crossed.

Her body tenses, and for a fleeting moment, I think she might strike me in defiance. But instead, Gabriella narrows her eyes, a fire igniting within them. “And what do you do with yourproperty,Bianchi? Is it anything like what you do with the men who don’t listen to you?” Her tone is laced with a mix of challenge and sarcasm, a dangerous blend that only heightens my desire to assert my control.

She’s a sassy little thing, and I can’t help but admire her spirit. Gabriella could do with my cock filling her mouth; maybe that would keep her from popping off at me. “Sort of,” I reply, my grip on her tightening as I stand up, lifting her off the bed withease and holding her aloft. The thrill of power surges through me. “They get fucked up, but you? You’re just going to getfingerfucked.”

Her brown eyes dilate with a mix of surprise and lust, the challenge hanging in the air between us. “You wouldn’t,” Gabriella whispers, the defiance in her voice softening into something almost pleading. “Not before our wedding day.” The tension crackles like electricity, the moment suspended as we both consider the implications of her words.

I pivot to drop her unceremoniously onto the bed, the soft thud of her body against the mattress echoing in the charged atmosphere. “I can do whatever I want,includingwith my betrothed. But don’t worry, doll, you’re going to love it. By the end of this, you’ll be daydreaming about what it’s like to have me inside of you, lost in thoughts of pleasure that will haunt you long after.”

A flicker of fear darts across her face, but it’s quickly masked by a stubborn resolve as I start to unbuckle my belt, the metal clinking ominously in the tense silence. I toss my suit coat over to the dresser; it narrowly misses the edge and slides to the floor, wrinkling instantly, a symbol of the chaos unfolding. I need room to work, to assert my claim. “Lean back on the bed, Gabriella,” I command, my voice low and steady.

Her eyes blaze with a stubborn fire, defiance bubbling beneath the surface. “You’ll regret this, Antonio. My father will?—“

“—do nothing,” I interject, my tone cutting through her words like a knife. “Your father needs the Bianchi family. After your little stunt with Johnston, the Andretti family is going down faster than the Titanic, a ship sinking under the weight of its own arrogance. Unless, of course,” I smirk, the corners of my mouthcurling with amusement, “you maintain that you didn’t kill him. But we both know the truth, don’t we?”

Gabriella glowers at me, her fiery eyes narrowing into slits that could cut through steel. “When you mistreat women, there’s always a chance that a woman is going to mistreat you in return.”

It’s a vague confession, cloaked in defiance, but one that makes me thankful I’ll never lay a hand on her. Gabriella may stand at a petite 5’4”, her tiny waist accentuated by the delicate curve of her hips and teacup breasts, but there’s a fierce, unyielding spirit within her that radiates the essence of a killer if I ever saw one. “Lay back, Gabriella. I won’t tell you again,” I warn, my voice dripping with menace.

She complies, scooting back and sinking into the plush comfort of the king-size bed, a stark contrast to her slight frame. In this vast expanse of luxury, she resembles a waif, almost fragile. I could easily toss her around, mold her into any position I desire, and indulge in every depraved fantasy that flickers through my mind. But tonight, I’m not here for pleasure; tonight, I’m going to teach her a lesson she won’t soon forget.

My cock is practically pulsating with desire as I stare at my fiancé, the very sight of her igniting a wildfire of lust deep within me. I want to strip her bare, to fuck her right here, right now, to claim her in this moment of undeniable passion. But I’ve got self-restraint, a quality that feels almost foreign to me in this heightened state.She did this to herself,after all, and I still haven’t gotten laid in six long months. That’s a significant stretch for a guy whose previous record for abstaining was a mere three weeks. She deserves whatever I choose to give her, and I intend to make it unforgettable.

I crawl onto the bed, the soft fabric cushioning my weight as I spread Gabriella’s legs, creating a space for myself between them. My heart races as I run my finger across her covered slit, feeling the heat radiating from her body, a magnetic pull that draws me closer. She lets out a small, whimpering sound when I brush my thumb across her sensitive clit, a noise that stirs something primal within me. “You aren’t a virgin,” I say, my voice low and charged with intent. “I know Johnston wouldappreciatea woman like you as often as he could. That’s exactly what I plan to do when we’re married.” Starting tonight, I promise myself.

I hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties, pulling them down with deliberate slowness, navigating her lingerie with an ease that speaks of familiarity and hunger. “Your pussy is practically calling my name,” I tease, a smirk playing on my lips as I catch sight of her wetness glistening in the dim light.

“I loathe you,” she glares at me, her defiance only fueling the fire of my desire.

“Perhaps,” I grin, my anticipation palpable as I crouch down between her legs, fully aware of the power I wield in this moment. “But that doesn’t mean your cunt does.” Her clit, already hard and inviting, is a delicate button of nerves, eager for my attention, a testament to the arousal that simmers just beneath the surface.

With deliberate slowness, I draw my tongue up her center, tracing a path from the entrance to that anxious little button at the top. Gabriella grabs the blankets tightly, her fingernails digging into the fabric as she suppresses her moans, biting her lip in a futile attempt to hold back the pleasure. In this moment, she is putty in my hands, completely at my mercy.

I sink a finger inside of her wet hole, burying it all the way to the knuckle, feeling the warmth envelop me. Despite her harsh words, declaring that she hated me, Gabriella’s hips instinctively buck toward my face in response to the intrusion, her body betraying her. I allow my middle finger to join its compatriot, and she’s unable to suppress the moan that escapes her lips, a sound that ignites the fire within me.

Gabriella squirms beneath my touch as I begin to massage her G-spot, her body responding to my every movement. I descend upon her clit, taking it in my mouth and punishing it with my tongue, teasing and tantalizing her with a rhythm designed to drive her wild. In this intoxicating dance of pleasure, she loses all control of her senses as my fingers and mouth work together, crafting a symphony of ecstasy that she can no longer resist.

She is my property, my wife-to-be. Adorned in black lace and inked with tattoos, Gabriella succumbs to my touch, her body yielding as I explore her. I suck gently on her clit, drawing soft gasps from her lips as she begins to buck her hips, the rhythm of her movements quickening with each teasing caress. The intoxicating aroma of her pussy envelops me, sweet and floral, like honeysuckle blooming on a sun-drenched spring morning. In this moment, she belongs to me completely.

It holds no significance what Johnston did to her; his actions are irrelevant, whether he fucked her senseless or brought her to the brink of ecstasy. Gabriella will come to crave me like an addict seeking their next fix. She may despise me for now, but soon enough, she will find herself yearning for the strict diet I impose—my cock thrusting in and out of her morning and night. I can see it in her eyes; when I come home from work, she will be drenched at the mere thought of what awaits her. Forget the mundane task of preparing dinner; instead, I’ll have her perchedon the edge of the counter, her body trembling in anticipation as I take her hard and deep, each thrust sending her spiraling closer to bliss until she screams.

When Gabriella finally comes, it’s a sound muffled by her own restraint. She instinctively slams her fist against her lips, desperate to stifle the cries that threaten to escape. Her hips are pressed firmly against my face, an unyielding invitation as I continue to lick her sweet spot, my fingers working in and out of her core with a relentless rhythm that drives her wild.

I can’t tell if the tears glistening on her flushed cheeks are born from the heights of pleasure or the depths of frustration. When I finally tear myself away from her intoxicating presence, I run my tongue around the edges of my mouth, savoring the lingering sweetness of her essence, indulging in that taste one last time tonight. “Hate me as much as you want, gorgeous,” I murmur, a wicked smile creeping onto my lips, “but I’m all you’re going to think about from now until the day you die.”

Gabriella Andretti-Scott is mine, completely and irrevocably. I will ruin her for any other man, ensuring that no one else can ever hope to compare to the ecstasy I bring her for the rest of her life. The thought of her considering the unthinkable—killing me—fades because deep down, she knows there isn’t another soul out there who will make her feel as alive, as electrified, as I do. “I’ll get your coat; it’s time for you to go back to where you came from,” I say, my voice low and firm. “And do me a favor,” I glance back at her, my gaze intense as I reach the threshold of the bedroom door. “Don’t get half-naked for my men ever again. If you do, I’ll edge that sweet pussy of yours until you’re in tears from not being able to come.”

As I exit the room, the scene shifts dramatically. The men at the party are still wrapped up in their revelry, drinking, smoking,and entertaining themselves with Barbie, their laughter and banter filling the air. They probably don’t even notice my absence, blissfully unaware that my suit jacket is missing and that my belt is nowhere to be found.

However, when I catch Rafael’s eye across the room, he raises an eyebrow in curiosity, a silent question hanging in the air between us. Perhaps I should tell him what I did, that I followed his advice to the letter. I might not control my future wife with an iron fist, but I will master her heart and body through other means, ensuring that she remains bound to me in ways she has yet to comprehend.

4

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