Mafia's Arranged Princess Bride - Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Lucky
The room isn’t what I expected, for a start I thought it would be dim, dark colors, reds and black. Austere like him only I did see the weakness in him when he was checking me out. The way his jaw tightened and clenched, I wonder if he is in his suite of rooms getting himself off. The tension between us was strong as much as I hate to admit that it was. My panties are soaked. The woman leaves me as I step inside the double doors.
Two pale blue sofas are facing one another in the middle of the first part of the suite, a marble coffee table of rose sits between them, white cushions look soft enough to bury my face into. A large vase of pale pink roses sits atop the table. They are fresh, I am wondering if he had this all planned and not just a spur of the moment decision to bring me here tonight. And what is his end game in doing so in any case? We agreed as part of the arrangement that I would not step inside his jail until we were married. Yet this does not resemble anything dark and grey like I thought it would.
It’s pretty, the walls are covered in soft blue wallpaper that matches the sofa, decorated with cherry blossom and peacocks. It’s stunning, I wonder how much something like that costs to cover the walls. A flat screen television hangs off the wall currently it is playing with a crackling fire scene, it’s warm and cozy lending itself to make me feel like kicking these damn uncomfortable shoes off my feet and curl up on the sofa with a neat whiskey in my hand. It’s late, I should go to bed, but my arousal needs to be satisfied first.
I slip out of my shoes, the soft cream carpet under my feet is luxurious, to the right is a door, I go open it to see what hides behind to be greeted by a floor to ceiling, tiger eye brown marble bathroom with a sunken tub, all the décor is in gold. I bet its real gold too. He does have decadent taste, I bet he had a designer in for someone as cold blooded and mean as Nico Santangelo would not have the first clue where to start on making something so beautiful, so inviting or luxurious. He is a mean, money grabbing, power crazed man, a man I detest. Just the thought of being married to him makes me shudder, but the thought of him caressing my body, sliding his fingers inside my needy pussy, that’s a whole different ball game. I am literally aching for his touch, I want to feel his tongue swiping up and down my slit, biting and latching onto my clit. I groan and place my hand over my mouth. Who knows who is in the room next door if anyone at all. I wonder where his suite is. I wonder what he is doing now. Is he thinking about me?
I close the bathroom door behind me and make my way through the wide arch to the bedroom area, the bed is large and round, it makes me smile. I always wanted a round bed, it could easily fit four or five people. Could you imagine the orgies I could have on this bed? Fascinating. I slip my dress off and reach for the navy robe with his initials on it and wrap it around my body, leaving just my basque and G-string on. The windows are floor to ceiling, three of them with double iron doors center placed. I open the doors and find myself confronted with a stone balcony that overlooks what must be his version of the gardens of Versailles, in the night it is too dark to see, all that greets me is the stillness of a pitch black sky, no moon to really be seen this evening and the twinkling of fairy lights below. They look like a million stars; it makes me catch my breath.
For sure, he has had designers because that man has got an ice-cold heart, he wouldn’t have such vision or care for the prettiness or beauty. This will be all to impress and show people that he is one of the richest men in New York, probably in the world. I dread to think of all the things Nico Santangelo has done to get this far. It makes me shudder; the man is dangerous. And I’m not just talking about the heinous crimes he would have committed, the people whose lives he would have destroyed to walk all over to get to the top, but the way he is making me think only of him, with his electric blue eyes, his almost jet black hair, the regal nose, the full pouty lips that I want to kiss and feel on my own, I wonder how he tastes.
Not able to wait any longer I close the doors from the crisp night air and lay down on the bed, my knees up, my feet resting on the soft as silk sheets and part my legs. I lazily allow my fingers to trail down my sternum, to my budding nipples that ache to be sucked on, I imagine him taking them into his mouth, my hips begin to move. Just the mere thought of Nico latching onto my nipples makes my core ache for him, my clit is already swollen I need to be touched, I want to be touched, I want to rake my hands through his hair, down his back and lay my claim on him. My hand reaches for my pussy where I feel just how wet I am, my wetness trickles down from my pussy to my buttocks. Delving two fingers inside me, I buck my hips, the sensation is pure bliss, pure pleasure, I imagine what his swollen, angry cock would feel like pounding in and out of my tightness, how I would squeeze the life out of his cock and make him want to explode inside my pussy. I murmur as I strum myself, finding my G-spot with years of practice, the familiar sensation of warmth creeping up my body from my core to my abdomen, my chest, my neck and my cheeks. I wish I had my vibrator here with me to plunge in and out of my pussy.
My liquid flows over my fingers as I pulse my fingers inside me, moving them in and out. It’s no fucking good, I need more, I want more. Part of me wants to run down the corridors finding which room is his so I can throw myself at him and straddle his large cock and ride him like a stallion, grinding myself down on his so hard, until I find my orgasm.
I change my position so I am sitting on the bed that my pussy can touch the soft sheets and begin to push down using my arms for leverage and begin to rock to and fro using the sheets as the friction I need, I bite my lower lip as I grind and grind, needing him to be inside me. Needing him to fuck me so hard that I scream for the entire world to hear. My legs begin to tremble as I feel the wave finally coming closer and closer to send me over the edge. I move one hand up to squeeze a nipple so fucking hard it’s actually painful. I want, no I need, I hate to admit it, but I need his lips around my bud, sucking me, licking me, teasing me. Fuck, oh fuck, holy motherfuck, the wave is coming as I unabashedly move to and fro on the sheets, my clit swells and aches as I begin to orgasm and scream out his name, clutching the sheet, fisting it.
My entire body shudders, I collapse forward my breathing heavy, whiteness in front of my eyes from the orgasm that took my breath away and surrendered my mind to thinking of the one man I hate the most. Nico Santangelo.
There’s a knock on the door. “Did you call me, Princess?” What the fuck? Did he hear me? Did I really call out his name? Fuck!
“No, never. You would be the last man I call. Now fuck off and let me sleep since you have imprisoned me here for the night. I hate you Nico Santangelo.”
“As you wish, Princess but anytime you need me, you just have to ask.”
“Like hell.” I flick him the finger even though he can’t see me, my hair is a mess all over my shoulders, I have just come undone over the thought of that monster. Never again.