Page 17 of Unhinged Little Angel

I chuckle again and wrap my soapy hand around my stiff, aching cock.

Is he getting impatient? Is he squirming and grumbling about how long I’ve been in the shower? Is he working to convince himself that storming in here would be a power move and not exactly what I’m hoping for?

I work my hand slowly up and down my shaft, picturing the fire in my Angioletto’s eyes, the strength and determination that’s written in every curl of his fists and sway of his hips, the vulnerability hidden in the trembles he hopes I don’t notice every time I touch him. I let out a moan, loud enough that I’m sure he’ll hear it if he’s listening. And then another.Come on, little angel, I’m ready to play if you are.

The bathroom door swings open, and I roll my hips, fucking into my fist, putting on a show for my soon-to-be-husband. I grunt and sigh, then look over my shoulder with my hand still moving over my cock. He’s obscured slightly by the steam on the shower door, but I can see him stripped down to nothing but a pair of dark briefs, standing in the doorway.

“Take a shower, suck my cock.” He ticks the two items off on his fingers. “Nowhere on that list did I tell you to spend half an hour in here jerking off.”

“I’m sorry, Angioletto,” I purr, pushing open the shower door with my free hand, not pausing my steady strokes with the other. “Did you want this?”

I widen my stance just a little, angling my hips towards him so he has a full view of my dark, swollen dick, my foreskin swallowing my cockhead and then rolling back again, my balls swinging heavily. Dante’s lips part and the unmistakable shape of his erection stiffens and twitches in the confines of his silky black briefs.

“All you have to do is beg for it, and it’s yours.”

His eyes snap up to meet mine, just as defiant as always even though we both know there’s no hiding his reaction to me. What will it take for Dante to let himself submit?

“You have that the wrong way around, baby girl.” He palms his cock through his briefs and his eyelashes flutter.

I chuckle and finally shut off the water. “You think so?”

I pluck a towel off the rack next to the shower and wrap it around my waist. The sudden chill has my nipples tightening but doesn’t do a damn thing to dampen the pulsing excitement between my legs. Water droplets cling to my skin and drip from my hair to run down the back of my neck. I step out of the shower, leaving wet footprints behind me as I stalk towards Dante. He holds his ground, pushing off the doorframe to straighten himself up to full height.

“You want me to trade you my body for your protection? Fine, I agreed to that. But it’ll be on my terms.” He grabs my wrist and places my hand on his cock. His briefs are even silkier than they look, expensive if I had to guess, and I can feel every ridge and throbbing vein of his shaft through them, his heat pulsing in my palm.

I wrap my fingers around his length and press myself closer to him, bringing my mouth near enough to taste the sweetness of his breath.

“I don’t think that’s what I said, Angel.” I squeeze his cock and watch his eyelids flutter. “But if that’s the way you need to frame it, I’m fine with that for now.” I brush my lips over his—not quite a kiss, more of a tease—and grin when Dante chases the touch and then scowls when he realizes what he’s doing. “However, I will have to insist on the begging.”

I sink my teeth into his bottom lip and he gasps, his cock jerking in my hand.

“In your fucking dreams,” he growls, tangling his fingers in my wet hair and biting me right back. The sting of his teeth tearing into my bottom lip and the coppery flavor of blood on my tongue make me grunt.

It’s a challenge as much as it’s a kiss, raw and savage and dripping with the same desperation I see in Dante’s eyes every time he snarls and rages. He’s terrified that if he stops swinging even for a second to catch his breath, everyone might see how tired he is of keeping his guard up. He’s afraid that if he lets himself be vulnerable, he won’t be safe anymore. But that’s the beauty of marrying a monster. He can rest, and I can scare all of his other nightmares away.

Our tongues tangle and he uses his grip on my hair to drag me into the bedroom. Since the bed is exactly where I want him, I let him savor his last few seconds of control. His lips are bruisingly rough against mine, his growls and groans vibrating around my tongue, his hips thrusting to grind his cock into my hand. He backs himself right up into the bed and then breaks the kiss, nibbling along my stubbled chin.

“Suck. My. Cock.” He punctuates each word with a graze of his teeth.

I stop stroking him through his briefs, hooking my fingers in his waistband so I can drag them down. My knuckles brush over his smooth, hairless skin, and his cock springs free. Wild isn’t full nude, so I’ve never seen himthisnaked before. Well, except for the strip search last night, but that was different. There wasn’t much light, and I didn’t have any plans to touch him. Not like this.

His underwear slips down around his feet and he kicks them off, his cock bobbing with the movement, the barbells through his nipples and belly button begging for my tongue while another piercing of his draws my attention for the first time. A short barbell through his frenulum, right below the head of his cock, previously hidden by his foreskin.

“Beg for it,” I say again.

“Never,” he snarls, baring his teeth.

“Fuck, I do love a challenge,” I growl, sliding my hands around to his perky ass cheeks and lifting him up to toss him onto the bed.

My towel comes loose and pools on the floor around my feet. He doesn’t even have time to protest, but that doesn’t stop him from glaring at me as I crawl onto the bed to kneel over him. Where’s the fun in submission if you don’t have to earn it? Maybe that’s why I’ve gotten bored with all the kink clubs in Wildcliff. Not only are the subs there too sweet and compliant, but most of them also know exactly who I am, and it’s obvious how much time they spend reading Mafia romance and casting me in their fantasies.

The head of my cock drags against Dante’s as I lean over him to lave my tongue over his nipple, rolling the barbell and then flicking the tight little bud. He hisses and arches his hips, our shafts colliding and his balls bouncing against mine.

“I’m not playing. Suck my dick or get off of me.” He shoves at my chest, but not hard. Considering how willing he is to breakbones when he doesn’t want to be touched, I don’t believe for a second that his protest is real.

“We should probably have a safeword, Angel. That way you can protest and argue with me as long as you need to.” I trace the shape of the butterfly tattoo on his pecs with my tongue then zero in on his other nipple. “Keep it simple—red if you really want me to stop.”

“And what about if I want you to just do what I say and suck me?” He squirms and pants as I roll my hips slowly, stroking his cock with mine.

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