Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
"If we marry," I begin.
"You mean 'when' we marry," he puts in smoothly.
Like grandmother, like grandson, I can't help thinking, with how both of them are acting like our wedding is already a foregone conclusion.
But while that's obviously not the case, I think I should let it go for now...since I still have a more important question to ask, which is—-
"What kind of marriage do you think we'll have?"
"Are you asking me if I plan to fuck you?"
My face turns red. "No!"
"The answer is yes, by the way."
"I don't care," I manage to choke out...even if I'm not quite sure I'm telling the truth.
"Then perhaps you can elaborate," Cesare invites. "What exactly are you asking, Penelope?"
"I just want to know if we'd be like a normal couple—-"
"Don't normal couples fuck?"
I should've seen that coming, dammit.
"I'm being serious here," I say stiffly. "I need to know—-"
"No, we will not be a normal couple."
Uh...ouch?
"My answer obviously disappoints you."
"Why can't we be a normal couple?"
"Why would you want to be?"
"Is it because you, I mean, is it because we, are, uh, famiglia?"
"That's part of the reason, but if you'd really like me to spell it out..."
"Yes!"
"Then it's because I don't want you to think of me as your husband—-even when we're married."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm sure you're aware that today's normal marriages have high divorce rates all over the world. Marriages between famiglia, though...divorce and annulments are exceptionally rare, and do you know why that is?"
If I have to guess...I think that's because some members of famiglia may not see anything wrong with shooting their spouses or lovers when one of them wants out. So who needs a lengthy divorce battle, when you can just turn yourself into a widow real quick?
"When you're famiglia, you eventually understand as you grow older that marriages are more likely to last when both parties treat it as a business transaction. And we can't do that if you think of me as your husband...or insist on seeing yourself as a wife."
"Then how do you want us to see each other then?" I ask in confusion. "As business partners?"
"That could do," he acknowledges, "but since that's boring as fuck, I would like you to see me as your owner instead."
"Excuse me?"
"And you, on the other hand, will be my property."
"You're kidding me. Right?"
"I could've lied to you," he points out, "and use pretty words to convince you that I have feelings for you. Instead, I'm telling you the truth...because I don't want our marriage to be built on lies."
"But...an owner?" I choke out. "I'm not an object to be owned. What you're suggesting is completely crazy—-"
"Will you still think that," he muses, "if I say that you shall own me as well?"
My mouth opens and closes several times, but I'm still unable to think of what to say.
"I thought that would catch your attention."
The lazy amusement in his tone makes me feel like bristling and blushing at the same time. "If this is some kind of joke—-"
"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you on that score, since I've never been good at cracking jokes."
That, I have no trouble believing, but...
"You seem to be the sensible type, tesoro. So tell me. Would it be sensible for you to reject my proposition...without giving it a try?"
Oh...no.
"Allow yourself to imagine what it would be like, for me to own you."
I think he's trying to seduce me like the Devil tempting a human to sell his soul to him.
"Imagine me as your owner, taking care of your every need, your every whim."
And I'm afraid—-
"Just close your eyes," he whispers, "and imagine the hands of your owner engulfing your sweet, lovely tits—-"
He's succeeding very, very well, and how can he not, when it's the first time in my entire life that I've had someone say something so explicitly dirty to me?
"Imagine me feeding on your nipples because they're mine. Every fucking inch of you is mine—-"
"S-Stop it." I make a desperate attempt to cover my ears, but this only has the Devil, I mean Cesare, releasing a low laugh that also sounds devilish...just as he forces my arms back down, and I'm once again powerless to resist the sinful temptation of his words.
"I'm far from done, tesoro. There's still more for you to imagine...because I want you to have a vivid idea of what it would be like for me to own you."
All I can do is shake my head...since I no longer trust myself not to cry out.
"Imagine my cock owning your pussy, Penelope. And I'm not going to lie—-I'm fucking bigger than most men."
The words are a trap, and I know it.
But even so.
I still end up doing what he wants me to do, with my body trembling violently as my gaze slowly drifts past his chest...until I find myself staring at the impossibly huge bulge behind his jeans.