“What are you looking at?” Gio’s voice startled me. I quickly averted my eyes, realizing he had caught me scrutinizing his V-line.
I had seen him shirtless on our first night as a married couple, but the lighting was dim, and I hadn’t noticed all the details of his body. It was only now that I observed all these tattoos.
Gio also wore an earring that added to his appeal. I couldn’t fathom why I was noticing every detail about him just now. Perhaps it was because every time I looked at Gio, I got distracted, and I never had the chance to appreciate everything about him.
“I hope you don’t plan on going to sleep this early. I still need to address your disobedience,” he said. “You need to be punished.” Gio added.
“Huh?” Those words escaped my lips without my control.
The mere mention of the word ‘punish’ was enough to send chills down my spine. My lips quivered in fear, and memories of all the cruelty I had endured from my father rushed back to haunt me.
Could there be anything worse than all I’d been through? Was Gio worse than my father? I hoped not. If Gio were to hurt me, I hoped that I would still consider myself fortunate not to be subjected to the same brutality as I had been by my father.
“Come here, Millie,” he gestured for me to approach him. I walked toward him like a robot, slowly inching closer. Contrary to my actions, all I wanted to do was run. But I knew that even if I ran, I would gain nothing, as there was no escaping Gio.
Gio grasped my shoulder and ran his fingers down my arm. Fear gripped me; I was afraid that the next thing to come would be the force of his hand. Just the thought of it sent a jolt of pain through me.
“Why are you shivering?” he asked in a low tone.
“Are you going to hurt me?” I raised my gaze to Gio. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I held them back. I didn’t want to cry in front of Gio. I didn’t want him to think I was seeking pity. Even if it was all an act, I wanted him to see me as brave.
Something like a brief, icy chill passed through his expression because of what I said.
“It depends,” he replied. He gently took hold of my nape and turned me to face the wall. I was now nearly pressed against the wall because of his actions. The speed at which it happened left me stunned. All I knew was that my heart raced with surprise.
The strap of my nightdress slipped from my shoulder to my arm, exposing my shoulder to him.
“If I get rough and hard, it’s going to hurt. That’s for sure.”
My thoughts were suspended in the air. Why did I feel like the pain he was talking about was different from what I had in mind?
I tried to turn my head towards him, but due to his grip on the back of my neck and the fact that my front was pressed against the wall, my movement was limited.
“Both of your hands on your back, Millie,” he commanded.
I obeyed his instructions. My breathing was heavy. The nervousness was slowly dissipating, being replaced by a strange sensation – excitement. I couldn’t understand why I was feeling excited about this. It was as if just a while ago, I thought he would hurt me in the same way my father used to.
“Good girl.”
My lips parted, my breath insufficient, struggling to inhale through my nose. I needed to breathe through my mouth. Why was I feeling so aroused when he told me I was a good girl? Could it be that I have a thing for praise? I didn’t even know I had a kink.
“Are you taking your pills diligently, Millie?” His voice was low, hoarse, enough to send shivers down my spine. I felt like a volcano, ready to erupt at any moment.
I nodded.
“Use your words, wife.”
“Y-Yes,” I replied, my voice trembling, just like my legs. Gio hadn’t done anything yet, but he already had my whole system quivering.
I remembered the first time we had sex. It was a blend of gentleness and roughness. The memories were hazy, but every time I recalled that night, an electric surge coursed through my body. My mind might forget the details, but my body remembered the night he claimed me.
“Great. We’re good to go,” he paused for a moment. “And even if you forget, I’m monitoring your pill intake. I’ll be the one to remind you.”
I heard the sound of clothing tearing. It snapped me back to reality, and I realized that Gio had torn my nightdress from the back. Only a few shreds of fabric remained on my body, not enough to conceal me. My panties were visible, and I couldn’t hide my front due to the state of my hands. I wasn’t wearing a bra.
A cool breeze swept across my back, sending another wave of pleasure through me. The sensation heightened as Gio’s lips brushed against my skin. I gasped, especially when I realized his kiss had landed on the scar on my back. Yes, I had a permanent scar there, a reminder of my father’s cruelty.
Gio touched the scar on my back. I thought he would ask something about it, but he remained silent.
He lifted me with a single hand. He sat on the bed, and I found myself nestled between his thighs. Gio quickly removed the last remnants of fabric clinging to my body, the remnants of my ruined nightdress.
His large hand cupped my left breast. I let out a deep breath as his hand brushed my chest.
“You like that, huh?” he said in a seductive tone, his lips close to my ear, his breath intensifying the sensations coursing through my body.
My femininity clenches and throbs, as if it’s yearning for his attention. I know Gio is aware of it, but he’s deliberately holding back, enjoying my torment.
Gio continues to toy with my breasts, fondling and pinching my nipples. Each time he does, it sends a mixture of pain and pleasure surging through me.
I clench my thighs to restrain the sensations of desire that Gio is evoking within me.
He grips my neck and forces me to face him. He gazes at my face and, once satisfied with my expression, hungrily captures my lips.
Moans escape between our lips. While our tongues are entwined, his hands are still teasing my nipples.
I’m going crazy. I want to… touch myself.
My hand slowly moves toward my thigh. I gently caress it before bringing my hand to my womanhood.
“Stop,” he commands. Gio abruptly halts our kiss and swiftly restrains my hand moving toward my femininity.
I close my eyes. The tingling sensation in my womanhood is becoming unbearable. It’s in desperate need of attention, and if Gio doesn’t provide it, I’m tempted to take matters into my own hands.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, teasingly.