Page 40 of The Bonventi Rise
"I feel it," I admit. "But won't this complicate everything? What if?—"
"Do you trust me, Alina?"
Do I trust him? This man who swept into my life and turned everything upside down? This man who's shown me more kindness and understanding in the past few weeks than I've experienced in years?
I take a deep breath, searching my heart for the answer. And to my surprise, I find it easily.
"Yes," I say, my voice firm. "Yes, I trust you, Marco."
"Then trust me when I say this isn't just about the campaign or the arrangement. This is about us. You and me."
I nod, and Marco nibbles on my ear, sending pleasure coursing through me like a storm.
"Now," he whispers into my ear, his hot breath warming me, "tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours."
He grips my hair and squeezes just enough to make it pleasurable.
"Good girl. Now let me show you what that means."
Without another word, he reaches for the buttons of my blouse, his fingers swift and deliberate. I help him, my own fingers trembling. He tosses my top to the side and unhooks my bra, doing the same.
He stares at my chest and wastes no time wrapping his warm tongue and lips around my hard nipples. I gasp from the sudden pleasure and arch my back, allowing him full access to suck, lick, and bite me however he pleases.
In one fluid motion, he spins me around, my back pressing against his chest, and his hands are everywhere—squeezing and massaging my breasts. His hands slide down my arms, gripping my hips, and I press into him, feeling the bulge that's starting to grow in his pants.
He licks my neck, and I shiver from the intoxicating feeling. "Oh, Marco," I say, his name escaping my lips without thought.
He stops and leans down, his breath hot against my skin. "When we're like this, you'll call me Sir," he commands.
I tense slightly. "Sir?" The word feels foreign on my tongue, yet somehow in the moment, almost right.
"Only if you want to come," he growls.
The promise in his voice makes me shiver. "Yes, Sir."
"Good girl," he says, the praise sends unexpected warmth through me.
He reaches around, undoes my pants, and forcibly pulls them down along with my panties. He then pushes me forward with just the right amount of surprise, bending me over my desk with a firm hand on the small of my back. The surface of the desk feels cool against my skin.
He grips my ass firmly. "Have you ever been spanked before, Firefly?"
My breath catches. The thought sends an unexpected thrill through me. "No, I haven't."
"Do you want to try?" His voice is deep, commanding.
I hesitate for a moment, then nod. "Yes, sir.”
A moment later, a sharp sting radiates across my skin as he delivers a firm spank. I gasp, my body jolting forward, the sting sending waves of pleasure-pain coursing through me.
He waits a moment, and I nod, gripping the edge of the desk and digging my nails into the wood.
Another spank follows, and another. Each smack is a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that draws a moan from deep within me.
"Good girl," he growls, his hand soothing the area he's marked. "You take it so well."
"Thank you, sir," I manage to say, breathing heavily from the rush of being punished.
