by C. Hallman
“Look at me, not them,” Alaric growls, and my attention snaps back to him. My eyes lock with his, and my breath stills in my lungs. His eyes are so dark they are black. He is looking at me with such intensity my body starts shaking again.
He is removing his clothes, exposing his taut muscular body like he is flexing every muscle at once. He seems bigger, more dangerous, almost feral. At that moment, I don’t even care who is watching. I just care about him not shredding me to pieces.
When he is completely naked, he wraps his hand around his hard cock. My eyes travel down to the iron rod between his legs, and my mouth goes dry. I know he’s been inside me before, but I was not conscious then, and the day after, I was sore as fuck. I can’t imagine this will bring me anything besides immense pain.
Foolishly, I try to close my thighs, but Alaric is faster. Shaking his head, he positions himself between my legs, grabbing my knee to keep me spread.
“You’re going to keep your legs spread until I allow you to close them. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I nod. Right now, I’m so scared I’d agree to anything he said.
“Fuck yeah…” The men start egging him on, yelling vile things at him. “Fuck her ass, make her bleed…” I try to tune them out, but their voices echo around in my head, taunting me, Their words reaching me where their touch never could, staining my soul.
Alaric moves closer until his cock is inches away from my pussy. He leans forward and rubs the angry-looking head of his dick over my still sensitive folds. I wince at the contact. Not because it hurts but because I’m already scared it will.
“You gonna take my big cock up your tight cunt, and you’re not going to fight me, got it?” Alaric warns, the possessiveness in his voice shocking me. “You’re going to be a good girl and take whatever I give you.”
I nod, unable to get a single word out at the moment. The lump in my throat feels like it’s never going to get dislodged, and I wonder if I’ll be able to say anything for the rest of the night.
Without warning, Alaric pushes forward, entering me slowly but forcefully. Pain shoots through me, and I bite the inside of my cheek, keeping my mouth closed to muffle a scream as he shoves his too-big cock into my tight channel. I feel like he is ripping me apart, tearing open my insides while I lie back and do nothing.
Tears prick at my eyes, and even though I try my best to hold them back, they fall down my cheeks anyway.
“God, you are so fucking tight,” Alaric grunts while filling me to the max. When he is all the way seated inside me, he holds still for a few seconds before slowly pulling out again. The next time he thrusts inside, it’s faster and more brutal, but the pain stays the same.
The other men in the room are still talking, but I’m finally able to drown them out, their voices nothing more than an inaudible murmur. Instead, I hear Alaric’s grunting and my heavy breathing while he continues to fuck me at a furious pace.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I wish for this to be over soon, for Alaric to take me home and hold me until I go to sleep. That thought evaporates when he shifts on top of me. Grabbing my hips, he grinds his pelvis over my clit, and a spark of pleasure reignites.
Only then do I notice that the pain is almost gone, leaving me feeling mostly full and uncomfortable everywhere. Well, everywhere but my clit, where his grinding has a different kind of pressure break out. Suddenly, I feel hot all over, like my skin is burning up, and I think I could actually come again.
How is this possible? How can he make me feel this way in front of all these men? I’m so ashamed of myself. I didn’t ask to have sex in front of them, that part is out of my control, but to orgasm? That’s on me. I should be able to control that. I shouldn’t want him to keep touching my clit until I come, but right now, that's exactly what I want.
I’m almost there, right at the cliff, about to go over, when Alaric pulls out of me abruptly, making me wince at the loss. My eyes fly open, just in time to see a knowing smirk on his face.
“Turn around, sugar,” he orders, but before I can move a muscle, he flips me around himself, propping me up until I’m folded over the back of the couch and facing away from him and all the other men.
I’m on my knees, my ass up in the air, and my legs slightly spread. I can feel Alaric moving behind me, his large hands roaming over my ass and thighs until he grabs both of my ass cheeks and spreads them apart.
My face feels like it catches on fire, and I’m glad that I can at least not see the men looking at me. Lowering my head, I rest my cheek on the back of the leather couch while Alaric runs the tip of his dick up and down my slit, then even further over my puckered asshole.
I clamp up right away, squeezing my ass cheeks together and making everyone in the room break out into laughter. Anger replaces my shame and fear momentarily. How dare they laugh at me? Fucking pricks. I dig my fingers into the plush leather where I’m holding the edge of the couch, imagining my nails would be digging into their eyes instead.
Alaric leans close, keeping his voice low so only I can hear the whisper, “Not today, little one, but soon… soon, this ass is going to be mine. Every part of you is mine. Don’t you ever forget it.”
A shiver runs up my spine at the same moment Alaric thrusts forward, entering me in one swift move from behind. My pussy quivers around his cock, this new position hitting a spot deep inside me I didn’t know existed.
This time, I can’t stop the moan from slipping past my lips. Fuck, this feels good. There is still a little bit of pain, but that’s pushed in the background while pleasure consumes me.
Alaric keeps fucking me like a man possessed. Holding my hips with a bruising grip, he pounds into me so hard the couch scoots across the pristine marble floor slightly. Pleasure keeps building inside my core until it finally erupts.
I held the orgasm as long as I could, which might be the reason I come so hard my vision goes black for a moment. My body slumps against the couch like I’m boneless. My cheek rubs against the leather as Alaric’s thrusts become erratic.
I’m still coming down from my own release when Alaric stills deep inside me with a grunt, his fingers digging into my hips painfully as he fills me with his warm release.
I feel drained, defeated, but also oddly sated. With Alaric still inside me, his heavy body leaning on me, I feel protected, shielded from everyone else. When he pulls out, I can feel his cum run down the inside of my thigh, and shame slams back into me with a vengeance.
The fog of lust is lifted, and the voices of the other men in the room become clear again.
“Look at that cum running out of her cunt… You fucked her good. Maybe you can fuck my wife for me like that… Are you sure you don’t want to fuck her ass? I wouldn't mind seeing her asshole gaping…” Their crude words make me want to curl into a fetal position and cry my heart out.
I can feel Alaric moving behind me, but I don’t turn around to see what he’s doing. Not until he throws something on top of my body. I look over my shoulder and find him fully dressed, wrapping me up in what I now realize is a blanket.
He tucks the soft fabric around me tightly, then picks me up and cradles me to his chest.
“I’ll see you soon, old friend,” Alessandro tells him before settling his dark gaze on me. “And you as well, Monroe.”
Without answering, I turn my head away and bury my face into Alaric's chest as he starts walking us out of the room and through the mansion. I keep my eyes closed and my face hidden, letting Alaric’s spicy cologne calm my nerves until we make it outside, and his scent is replaced with the crisp fresh air of nature.
Alaric somehow manages to open the passenger door without putting me down, then carefully deposits me in the seat and buckles me up. He doesn't say a word as he closes the door and walks around to get into the driver’s seat.
Silently, he starts the car, and we drive back to his place, leaving the mansion and everything that has happened there behind in the darkness. My only fear is that it won’t stay there for l
ong.
17
Alaric
I've done a lot of fucked-up shit in my lifetime, but this has to be the biggest mess I've gotten myself into so far.
I watch Monroe sleeping. She looks like an angel, so innocent, so pure. Her blond strands of hair cover the pillow, and her full lips are slightly parted. Her heavy chest rises and falls as she sleeps, and my cock hardens at the sight. Fuck, I can't help myself around her.
What the hell was I thinking last night? I should never have introduced Monroe as my fiancée. Now I'm fucked. I have to marry her or risk the Lombardi family getting their dirty hands on my girl.
Still, I don't regret it. I can't bear the thought of Alessandro getting his hands on her. I'd have to kill him for it, and then I'd really be in a world of trouble.
Before my eyes, Monroe yawns and stretches in the bed like an innocent kitten.
"Good morning," I grunt.
"Morning." She rubs her eyes and looks up at me. Her expression is so trusting it fucking hurts. She shouldn't trust me. I'm a fucking monster. Yet I can't help myself, even though I know it would be best for Monroe to hide her away somewhere where the Lombardis won't find her.
I watch the memory of what happened last night dawn on Monroe, and her expression darkens as she remembers everything I put her through yesterday. Her bottom lip trembles, making me feel guilty as fuck.
"What's going to happen now, Alaric?" she asks softly.
"What has to happen," I reply firmly. "Tomorrow, we're going to get married. Today, we're going to look for a wedding dress."
Monroe's jaw hangs open as she realizes I'm totally serious. But I don't leave her any room to argue. I usher her into the bathroom and take my sweet time washing her myself. As my strong arms roam her gorgeous, voluptuous body, I find it hard not to fuck her then and there. But I resist the urge. Instead, I soap her up and lather her hair with shampoo.
"Why are you being so caring?" she asks softly.
"Someone has to take care of you," I mutter in response, washing the suds off her full tits.
"I can take care of myself, thank you very much."
I smirk at her, saying, "You aren't resisting much for someone who's so determined to be independent."
She flushes, not arguing anymore as I wash the shampoo out of her hair. Once we're done, I wrap her up in a towel and watch her intensely as she dries her hair, styles it, and puts on a small amount of makeup. She looks so fucking stunning it hurts. The only thing that hurts more than her beauty is the thought of some prick getting his dirty hands on her. And this only strengthens my resolve to make Monroe mine once and for all. I can't risk Alessandro stealing her, and the only way to prevent that is to marry the girl.
I take her to an upscale wedding boutique where an overly friendly employee happily chatters to Monroe as she guides her between the rows of hangers. I see my girl checking the price of one of the dresses discreetly. She pales. The dress probably costs more than a year of care in her grandmother's nursing home.
But she's worth it.
"I must say, it's quite unusual for the groom to come dress shopping with the bride!" The sales attendant is smiling at me widely, and I fight the urge to snap back. "But whatever works for you two lovebirds!"
I mutter something incomprehensible in response, my eyes still following Monroe as she moves through the shop.
"I'm going to take the bride to the back to try something on now," the attendant beams, but when she tries to walk away, I block her path.
"No," I hiss, making her swallow thickly as her heavily made-up face falls. "I don't want you alone together. I want to watch her change."
"Oh?" The lady chuckles nervously. "I must say, that's very unusual..."
"I don't care," I bark. "I'm paying you enough so you don't ask stupid questions. Either I watch her change or she's not trying anything on at all."
"Of course." She smiles, obviously freaking out. She probably doesn't know shit, so even flashing my red bracelet won't work. But she's too afraid to argue with me, even though she's uncomfortable as fuck.
"Which one do you like?" I ask Monroe a moment later.
"Does it matter?" she whispers, earning another curious look from the saleslady. "It's not like this is my dream wedding. So who cares?"
"Just pick something," I hiss while my bride-to-be sighs and keeps browsing the racks.
Finally, she pulls out a few dresses, and the overly enthusiastic sales lady takes them all to the changing room. I follow the two women there, taking a seat on a plush beige armchair. I force Monroe to keep the curtain in the shop open. I slipped enough money in the saleslady's pocket to ensure we're the only ones in here, and I've seen her naked already. While the assistant, a prim-and-proper girl in her late twenties, fills my glass with champagne, my eyes are glued to Monroe slipping off her clothes while her cheeks burn with shame.
She must be hating this, and I really must be a fucking prick because I'm loving winding her up.
Monroe tries on the first dress. It's a frilly thing with so many ruffles I can barely make out her body underneath the layers of fabric.
"No," I bark the moment she comes out in the fabric.
"What do you mean, no?" Monroe whines, turning to the side. "I love it. I look like a princess."
"Next," I mutter, checking my phone. "Try something more revealing."
She rolls her eyes and walks back into the changing room.
"You two are so cute," the assistant gushes, and I give her a doubtful look.
"How about this one?"
Monroe reappears, this time in a tight satin gown with a train. It clings to her body, exposing everything I love about it.
"Better," I mutter even though I love the dress. But I'm not going to tell her how stunning she looks in front of these two nosy women. I'm saving that for when we're alone in bed, and Monroe's riding my dick to an orgasm.
I nod at the saleslady, saying, "We'll take it."
"Well, that was fast!" She looks delighted as I pay in cash for the dress. She doesn't even bat an eye at the stack of dollar bills I hand over to her. "We'll need to make some alterations of course, so it fits your bride perfectly."
"That's fine. Just make sure it's fast." I scribble an address on a piece of paper. "When it's done, send it here."
"Of course, sir."
I march Monroe out of the store, feeling her eyes on me. She wants to ask something, I can tell. And finally, she lets herself spit it out.
"What was the address you wrote down?"
I was worried about this question and even more worried about telling her the answer. But she doesn't really have a choice. I'm going to decide for her.
"It's Alessandro's house," I tell her firmly, without any room for further questions. "That's where we're getting married."
Monroe stops in her tracks, her brows knitting together. "I don't want to get married there. I don't like the guy."
"The feeling is mutual, sugar," I say. "But you don't have a choice, and neither do I. We need to convince him we're in love or he won't stop trying to get his hands on you. And we don't want that, do we?"
"No," she says softly. "But I still don't like it."
"I know." I squeeze her hand. "But it's going to be okay, I promise. Now come on."
I open the car door for her, and she gets in. I follow on the driver's side and start the car while she pensively stares ahead, refusing to talk. I let her stew in her anger. There's not much I can do to make her feel better, so I think it's best if I just let Monroe work through it herself.
"What about the money?" Monroe suddenly asks, making me look at her out of the corner of my eye as we drive.
"What about it?"
"Are you... are you going to honor the deal you made with me?"
"Monroe," I say. "You don't need to worry about money anymore."
I can tell there's another question on the tip of her tongue, but before she can express her concerns, I speak up again.
"Your grandm
other is taken care of."
"W-What?" Her eyes are panicked as they meet mine again. "How... how did you know?"
"I did a background check on you, obviously." I stop the car in the parking lot of a mall so we can speak without worrying about the road. "I had to. I needed to know you weren't a liar."
"Please." She looks panicked now, a look of pure fear taking over her pretty face. "Please, don't hurt my grandmother. She's everything I have. Please, Alaric. Promise me she won't get hurt. Not because of me."
"Don't worry." I take her chin in my hands and gently tip it back so she's forced to look at me. "I won't let anyone hurt her. There's no reason anyone should find her, either. I'm paying for her care from an off-shore account. She's safe."
Monroe nods, but her bottom lip is trembling as she looks up at me. "I just... I can't bear the thought of Gram getting hurt because of me. I'd never be able to forgive myself."
"I understand." While I don't have a relationship with family, I do get her. She wants to keep the innocent party in all this safe, and since I'm her future husband, it's now my job to take care of her loved ones. "Like I said, nobody will find out, and she'll be safe. Don't worry. I promise you, nothing bad will happen."
She nods, and from the trusting look in her eyes, I can tell she believes me, which makes me grin.
"How often do you usually see your grandmother?" I ask next.
"I try to go twice a week," she responds. "Although sometimes I can only manage it once a week. Depends on my shifts."
"So it's been a while. You think she's worried?"
"She must be." Monroe nervously twists her arms in her lap. "I call her every day. She's surely wondering why I haven't been in touch."
A pang of guilt hits me hard, shocking me. I don't do guilt. I don't have a conscience. And here I am worrying about some old lady I have no connection to.
