Cruel Tyrant Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
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She moans as I tighten my grip on her throat. I thrust my fingers in and out, her pussy slick and soaking her palm, and my cock’s so hard I swear I might rip straight through my pants. I release her throat and unbuckle my belt, shimmying myself free, before pulling my fingers from inside of her. She looks over her shoulder like what the fuck, why are you stopping and I give her a nice, hard fucking spank on that lovely round ass of hers as I yank down my boxer briefs and stroke my cock.

I shove my fingers into her mouth as promised. She moans in surprise as my other hand teases her clit. I bite the back of her ear and pull her chin up, her ass pressed against my hard dick.

“Every night we go to bed together, I think about doing this to you,” I whisper as my tip presses against her silky pussy. “I dream about fucking this messy little cunt until you’re lying on your back twitching with ecstasy. Do you have any idea what I want to do to you, baby?”

“Show me,” she moans then bites down on my fingers.

Fuck, it hurts, and it drives me absolutely wild. I sink my cock deep inside of her, bending her over more before pulling my fingers from her mouth. I use her own spit to rub against her clit as I fuck her, and she’s moaning like wild, her noises like heaven, her slick, tight pussy dragging against my cock and sending bliss into my spine. I pull her hair again and sink my fingers into her mouth as I fuck her harder, ravishing her, unrelenting, and I don’t know how much more I can take of this as her pussy clenches down.

“You want to come for me, don’t you, baby?” I slap her ass and rub her clit as I fuck her. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want to come,” she groans, her cheeks bright pink. “Make me come, Davide.”

“When you finish on my cock, I’m going to make you taste yourself. You’re going to lick yourself off my hard dick, every single fucking drop, you filthy fucking girl. Tell me you like that.”

“I love it,” she moans.

“God, look at how beautiful you are.” I sink myself deeper, losing my mind. “My beautiful wife. My pretty fucking wife taking my thick cock. God, you feel good.”

“Davide,” she hisses, back arching. I wrap my hand around her throat. “Oh my god, I’m coming.”

Her body bears down as the orgasm rips through her. I hold her neck and drive myself deep, going wild with pleasure as she comes for what feels like an eternity. But as she slowly finishes, I pull back and shove her down to her knees, tilting her chin up and forcing the tip of my cock between her pretty lips.

“Lick,” I command, and she does, fucking hell.

Her tongue rolls around my tip and I’m so damn close.

“Every inch,” I say and grab her hair, pushing myself into her mouth.

She moans and bobs forward then back, and that’s all I need. I come on my wife’s tongue, her name on my lips as she keeps sucking up every drop, and when I’m finished, I drag her to her feet and kiss her slow.

“You look so fucking good with my fingers shoved in your mouth,” I whisper, my forehead against hers. We’re both breathing hard.

“Yeah? I thought you’d like me with your dick between my lips, but that works too.”

I shower her with compliments. I can’t help myself. As I clean her off and get her dressed, I tell her how beautiful she looks, how incredible she felt, how gorgeous and funny she is. And all the while, her cheeks glow pink, and she seems to grow two inches taller.

“Where’d all this come from?” she asks when I’ve finally got her sitting in my lap. I stroke her hair and kiss her neck.

“I’m telling you everything I’ve been thinking since I first shoved your panties in your mouth.”

Somehow, her face flushes deeper. “Right, about that. I kind of want that underwear back. They were my favorite.”

“You can have them back the next time I decide to gag you.”

She laughs, but we both know I’m not kidding.

Chapter 15

Stefania

The smell of sizzling garlic fills the kitchen. I get the sense that this place had never been used before—every surface is absolutely pristine like it’s still brand new.

Davide’s out working, doing whatever the hell dangerous criminals do for a living, but he said he’d be back tonight. I busy myself making a modified chicken Milanese, a recipe I learned a while back and turned into my own. I crack open some wine and as I dump in the pasta to boil, I try to remember the last time I cooked for someone.


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