Prince of vice, p.27
Prince of Vice, page 27
My heart races as I look at him, his dark eyes full of desire. He pulls me to him, guiding my thighs down so that I'm hovering above his face. "Sit on my face, bella," he commands, his voice rough and gravelly, "I need to taste you – it's been too long."
Bashfulness floods through me, but his strong fingers grip my thighs tightly, pulling me down onto him. As soon as his tongue makes contact with my sensitive flesh, I gasp, my hands instinctively moving to tease my nipples. I've fantasized about this moment for weeks, but nothing could have prepared me for the way Primo makes me feel.
"Ride my tongue, baby," he urges, smacking my ass gently. I rock my hips against him, my body growing closer and closer to release. His talented tongue, combined with two of his fingers expertly working my g-spot, pushes me to the edge. It doesn't take long before I'm coming undone, my climax washing over me in waves. His growls of approval vibrate against my skin as he laps up every bit of me, leaving no trace of my pleasure behind.
When Primo flips me over, his eyes are alight with a ravenous hunger. I know that we're far from finished, and the anticipation of what's to come makes me ache for more.
"Primo," I whisper breathlessly, "I want to taste you."
He shakes his head, gripping my chin firmly. "No, I need to fuck you now. It's been too long since I've been inside your sweet pussy."
"Please," I beg, my eyes pleading with his, "I miss the taste of you."
"Look at yourself," he degrades me, his words dripping with lust, "You're such a pitiful little sub that you can't even go a few weeks without the taste of my cock in your mouth. I love how horny and needy you are for me."
I open my mouth wide, showing him exactly what I crave. A dark chuckle escapes his lips as he decides to give me just that. He lifts me up, and I squirm in his strong arms, but a hard smack on my ass reminds me to be a good girl. He tosses me onto the bed and unzips his pants, pulling me until my head is hanging off the edge.
"Get ready, pet," he warns, before pushing himself into my eager mouth. The angle makes it difficult for me to take him completely, but his praise and degradation spur me on. As he fucks my face at a punishing pace, his fingers find their way between my thighs, reigniting my arousal. Another orgasm builds within me, and I know I won't be able to hold back for long.
"Such a good girl," Primo murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction, "taking me so well." He continues this way as I choke on his cock.
"Enough," he breathes, withdrawing from my mouth with a wet pop. He flips me over onto my stomach, my body tingling with anticipation. I watch as he sheds his clothing, his muscles gleaming in the low light, all those delicious tattoos glinting like forbidden treasures. The sight of him sends a shiver down my spine, my arousal flaring anew.
He climbs on top of me, entering me from behind with one slow, deliberate thrust. Our bodies meld together, his strong arms wrapping around me as he caresses my skin, nipping at my neck. He starts out slow, but soon his pace increases, our bodies colliding with each frantic thrust. My moans fill the room, and I start to worry that those downstairs might hear us.
"Say my name, mia cara," he growls into my ear, his voice commanding and irresistible. "I want to hear you scream it when you come for me again."
The heat rises within me, his relentless rhythm pushing me closer and closer to the edge. As he twists my nipples and plunges into me again and again, I finally let go, crying out his name as my orgasm moves through me. The pulsing of my walls sends him over the edge too, and he releases himself deep inside me with a guttural groan.
We collapse onto the bed, our bodies slick with sweat and desire. I'm all smiles as he turns me over, cradling me in his arms. The intimacy of the moment has me tracing the edges of his tattoos, curiosity piqued by their intricate designs.
"Will you tell me now what each one means?" I whisper, my fingers dancing across his inked skin.
"Of course," he replies softly. He begins to explain each one, his voice low and soothing. "This one is my family crest. This one—the wolf—I got from a monk while traveling. It represents loyalty and protection of my pack."
"Your pack?" I tease, grinning up at him.
"Si, my family, my friends—like Charlie, who I got this tattoo for recently." He points out each one as he speaks, his fingers brushing the inked tributes to those he loves. "And this one is for my mother, still in Italy, and my son."
My gaze lingers on a fresh tattoo, curiosity piqued. "Who is that one for?"
A slow smile spreads across his face. "That one is for you, bella. Lady Justice, holding a single scale with my heart inside it."
Tears well up in my eyes as I ask him when he got it. He tells me it was a few weeks ago.
"But," I say looking at him in confusion, "we didn't know that we would end up together then."
"Bella," he murmurs, his eyes locked onto mine, "that doesn't mean I stopped loving you, or ever would."
As our breathing slows and our hearts find their rhythm once more, I realize just how deeply Primo has woven himself into the fabric of my life. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
As we come back to our senses, I feel the need to ask him about something he mentioned earlier. "Primo, what did you mean by collaring me?" I inquire, my voice soft and curious.
"Ah," he murmurs, his eyes darkening with excitement. "Collaring is a BDSM tradition, symbolizing a deep commitment between a Dominant and their submissive. It's like a wedding ring, but for our kind of relationship." He pauses, gauging my reaction. "I would love to do that with you, if you'd be willing to."
"Wait," I say, furrowing my brow in thought. "If I'm willing to marry you, doesn't that mean I'd be willing to let you collar me?"
He shakes his head, giving me a tender smile. "Not necessarily. Marriage is a public commitment, while collaring is an intensely personal one. It doesn't have to be for everyone, but it can be a powerful expression of our bond."
The idea intrigues me, awakening something within me that hungers for more. "I'm very interested, Primo. I can't wait to learn more about it with you."
"Me too," he says, his eyes alight with anticipation. "We'll explore all our fantasies together and work slowly toward that step in our dynamic, at our own pace."
Feeling refreshed and reconnected, we clean up and put our clothes back on. As we make our way downstairs, hand in hand, the live auction has already begun. The room buzzes with excitement as people place their bids, the atmosphere electric.
"Isaac," I call out to my date as I approach him. "Sorry I was gone so long."
He waves off my apology with a smile. "No worries, I hardly noticed."
"Thank you for being such a great date tonight, but I won't be needing a ride home," I tell him, hoping he understands.
Isaac glances between Primo and me, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "I see. Well, I really do wish you both the best." He leaves us with a nod, and Primo's attention returns to me.
We walk the halls of the mansion, our fingers intertwined, when we run into Teddy looking sheepish. Primo tries to express his gratitude for the advice Teddy had given him, but Teddy attempts to brush it off.
"Really, it was nothing," he mumbles, shifting uncomfortably.
That's when I notice what Teddy is trying to hide: a girl tucked behind one of the statues. Primo seems slightly irritated by the situation, but I just laugh. With a lighthearted tug on Primo's hand, I lead him into the gardens.
The gardens come alive at night, the moon casting a silvery glow on the impeccably groomed hedges and blossoming springtime flowers. The scent of roses mixed with the crisp night air creates an intoxicating aroma.
"Here," Primo murmurs, bending down to pluck a delicate bloom from its stem. He places the flower gently in my hair, his fingers lingering for a moment as he adjusts its position. His eyes meet mine, filled with warmth and adoration, and I feel my heart swell in response.
"Thank you," I whisper, just before his lips find mine in a tender kiss beneath the moonlight. The world around us fades away, leaving only the sensation of his mouth against mine, gentle yet full of unspoken promise.
As he pulls back, I take a deep breath and share what's been on my mind. "I'm not giving up my law career, Primo."
He smiles softly, understanding in his eyes. "I would never ask you to."
"Instead of private practice, I've decided to work for the public defender's office." My voice is firm, resolute. "I know people are being taken advantage of by prosecutors like Greg, and I can't just stand by and watch that happen to them."
"Isabella," Primo says, his voice filled with admiration, "I'm so proud of you. You're an incredibly smart attorney, and they'll be lucky to have you. And I am so lucky to have you."
His words send a shiver down my spine, a mix of anticipation and exhilaration coursing through me. As we continue our stroll through the garden, hand in hand, I imagine the life we're going to build together – one where we support each other, challenge each other, and grow together.
"Primo," I say, my voice barely more than a whisper, "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
"Neither can I, bella," he replies, his grip on my hand tightening ever so slightly. "And I will spend every day proving just how much you mean to me."
The End.
Epilogue
Isabella
It's Primo and my wedding day, and I can barely contain my excitement. We talked about having just a small ceremony of family and friends, but he really wouldn't hear of it. He told me that he wanted as big of a ceremony as possible because he wanted the entire world to know that I now officially belong to him. I couldn't say no to him; I never really can.
I didn't have to do any planning for it. Primo did everything from start to finish, leaving me only in charge of picking out my dress and making sure he didn't get to see it before the wedding day. Primo, being Italian, was very much into traditions and extremely superstitious. He gave me an unlimited budget to pick out my dress, and even though I wanted to be careful with his money (especially because we've really had to earn our own these days), I ended up getting something definitely on the pricier side.
As I stand in front of the mirror, taking in the sight of myself in the most exquisite wedding gown I've ever laid eyes on, I feel like a queen. The gown is a vision of delicate lace and silk, hugging my curves just right, with a subtly seductive plunging neckline. The long sleeves are adorned with intricate embroidery, trailing down to the tips of my fingers. The train cascades behind me, a waterfall of fabric shimmering with every movement.
My hair is styled into an elegant chignon, adorned with tiny pearls that catch the light beautifully. My makeup is flawless: subtle smoky eyes, rosy cheeks, and soft pink lips. I feel both powerful and incredibly vulnerable at the same time.
"Damn, sis," Eve, also my maid of honor, says as she beams with pride. "You look amazing! Who knew you'd clean up so well? I'm sad I didn't find my own hot mobster before the family went legit – I'm tired of working."
I roll my eyes playfully. "Hey, you never know. You might still find the right criminal to turn you into a trophy wife."
"One can dream!" Eve exclaims with a laugh, and we share a knowing smile.
We join Tammy, my other bridesmaid, in the foyer as we wait for the music to start playing. The anticipation is almost overwhelming, but I'm so ready to begin this new chapter of my life with Primo.
The music swells as I stand at the entrance to the grand church, my heart pounding in my chest. Eve gives my veil one more graceful flourish before winking at me and stepping down the aisle ahead of me. The warmth of her love and support fills me up.
Taking a deep breath, I begin my slow walk down the aisle, each step measured and deliberate. I've seen so many brides cry on their wedding day, but not a single tear escapes me today – only pure happiness radiates from within. My gaze sweeps over the crowd, finding the happy, familiar faces of our loved ones. I spot Lucas, Primo's son, smiling proudly among them. I was so proud of him, but he worked up the courage to call his son and they’ve been reconnecting ever since.
It's been three months since Primo started working with Giovanni, and everything feels safer, more secure – the family is finally moving in the right direction.
As I reach the altar, my heart leaps into my throat at the sight of Primo. He stands tall and regal, his jaw set and eyes fierce with determination. His dark hair is neatly styled, and the sharp lines of his tailored suit accentuate his strong physique. His gaze locks onto mine, and in that moment, I feel an all-consuming love that sets my soul alight.
"Welcome, family and friends," the officiant begins, his voice resonant and warm. "Today, we gather to celebrate the union of Isabella and Primo."
The service is a blur as I keep my eyes locked onto his. Finally, it's time for us to exchange vows.
"Primo," I start, my voice trembling with excitement as I launch into my vows. The words tumble from my lips in a torrent, my heart racing so fast that I can barely remember what I've said. But it doesn't matter – the raw emotion speaks louder than any well-crafted phrase could.
"Isabella," Primo replies, his voice steady and controlled, just like the man himself. "You have made me a better man. You have saved me from the darkness that once consumed me. I vow to spend my entire life trying to live up to you and everything you've done for me."
The sincerity in his words is palpable, the depth of his emotion resonating through every syllable.
Before I know it, Primo's strong arms encircle my waist, pulling me into him as his lips crash against mine. The passion ignites within us, an insatiable fire that consumes us both. He dips me back, deepening the kiss further, our love on full display for everyone to witness.
"By the power vested in me," the officiant declares, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."
As we break apart, our breaths mingling in the air between us, I know without a doubt that this is the beginning of a beautiful, passionate life together – filled with love, devotion, and a connection that transcends time itself.
"Congratulations!" Our friends and family cheer as we make our way to the limo, their faces alight with joy. The reality of being Primo's wife fills me with a warmth I've never experienced before.
Once inside the limo, Primo's arms wrap around me, pulling me into a heated kiss that leaves me breathless. His voice is low and sultry, tinged with the darkness I've grown to crave. "I can't wait to rip this dress off you and fuck you until you're begging for mercy."
My core clenches at his words, the filthiness contrasting with the purity of my wedding gown. He pushes me down onto the backseat, lifting my skirt and burying his face between my legs. My hands grip the soft leather as his tongue delves into me, sending shivers up my spine.
"Primo," I moan. His fingers slide into me, curving to hit that perfect spot. "I want to scream your name every time I come."
He pulls away, his eyes dark with lust. "I'll make sure of it, my needy little wife. Your body belongs to me now, and I'll use it every single day."
Without another word, he unzips his pants and takes out his cock, fully erect and glistening with precum. I move toward him, my mouth watering at the sight. As I take him in, the taste of him overwhelms me, and I suck him with abandon.
"Such a good girl," he groans above me, his hands gripping my hair. The dirtiness of the act only fuels my desire. I feel like a goddess, powerful and sensual, even as I submit to him.
Just as he's about to cum, he pulls me off, his breathing ragged. "Climb on, Isabella," he orders, his voice husky. "I want my cum dripping down you for the entire reception."
I climb onto his lap, straddling him as the limo glides through the city streets. His hands grip my hips, guiding me as I bounce on his cock. He pulls my wedding dress down, exposing my breasts to the dim light of the limo. His mouth latches onto my soft flesh, biting and marking me as he groans in pleasure.
"God, Isabella, you belong to me now. And I'm so fucking thankful for it," he murmurs between bites.
My body trembles with each thrust, feeling the orgasm building within me like a tidal wave. "Primo, I... I'm trying to hold on," I gasp, clutching at his broad shoulders.
"Wait for me," he commands, his voice strained. His fingers pinch my nipples hard, sending jolts of pleasure through me. "Now, come for me."
We come together, our cries mingling in the air as we lose ourselves in the intensity of the moment. As though on cue, the limo stops in front of the reception hall. I right myself, but I can feel his cum dripping down my thighs.
"I love the idea of my cum dirtying up your wedding dress," Primo whispers, his eyes dark with desire. "You're mine now, Isabella."
As we enter the reception, Primo is immediately pulled aside by Giovanni. I watch them talk business, their expressions serious. Teddy approaches me, a mischievous grin on his face.
"Hey, they're talking business. We gotta break it up, but first... shots!" He laughs, and I join him. Together, we down our glasses before moving toward the two brothers. I place a hand on Primo's arm, urging him to relax and enjoy the celebration.
"Come on, boys, drink up and have some fun," I tell them playfully. We cut the cake, and Primo feeds me a bite with a gentle touch. He gives me a warning look as I grin, daring him to think I'd smash it in his face. Instead, I dab icing on his nose, and he smiles, though a promise of punishment lingers in his eyes.
"Can't wait," I murmur, the anticipation thrilling me.
We dance, our bodies moving in sync to the rhythm of the music, but soon enough, Primo's lust is too strong to contain. He pulls me close, whispering in my ear, "I need you again, Isabella."
He announces to the gathered guests that he appreciates their presence but must take his bride away.
Upon entering the hotel room, my senses are flooded with the rich scent of roses and the flickering glow of candles. Primo pulls me close, his eyes reflecting a love that both warms and consumes me.
