Devil Mine: A Dark Cartel Romance (London Underworld Book 1)

I cry out in alarm when my breasts bounce free of my bra. Immediately, I try to cover myself. Thiago just had his mouth on my pussy but being completely naked in front of him is a whole new level of vulnerable that I’m not ready for. He grabs my wrists in each hand and pins them on either side of my head. 

Eyes that shine with dark intent stare heatedly at my chest, hypnotized by what they see. The intensity with which he looks at me rivals the ferocity with which he handled me when he was punishing me.

The burn in my cheeks radiates white-hot heat across my entire ass. My brain is still operating at a thousand miles per hour trying to process what just happened. He hurt me then gave me the most intense orgasm of my entire life, both in terms of skill and the way he’d stared possessively at me through it all. He enjoyed causing me pain and getting me to submit. He’d promised me months ago that he would, so I don’t know why I was surprised when he pulled me over his lap and spanked me.

I can’t believe he did it, but even more shocking, I can’t believe I let him. The spanking had hurt beyond measure, and even though I hadn’t wanted him to see any weakness, I hadn’t been able to stop myself from screaming and eventually crying.

But the more his belt came down, the more he forced me to submit to him, the stronger the heat in my core had grown. With each strike on my cheeks, an electric tingle had zapped through me. By the time he was done, my pussy was throbbing so painfully with need that when he put his mouth on me, I’d been powerless to resist him.

If he’d asked again if I wanted to fuck him after he ate me out, I don’t know if I would have found the strength to say no.

And now he looks at me with even more ownership in his gaze, raking those honeyed eyes over my breasts like he’s trying to imprint them in his memory.

I struggle against his hold, trying to free myself. That only results in his eyes darkening further when he sees the way my breasts bounce on my chest.

“Get off me, Thiago. I’m done with this,” I hiss, finding a shred of mental clarity.

Fingers close around my throat and squeeze violently. I grip them with my now free hand, trying to loosen his hold so as to let the air back in.

Thiago bends over me until his face is inches from mine. This close, he’s the perfect picture of violent beauty. The teardrop and rose tattoos have liquid lust swirling low in my belly, amplified by the dizziness from the lack of oxygen that’s starting to muddle my thoughts.

“We’re married now,” he whispers angrily through gritted teeth. “You’ll never be done with me.”

I loosen a finger and manage to squeak out one word.

“Divorce.”

I regret it almost instantly. The crazy that flashes in his eyes and stays there tells me that was the wrong thing to say.

He releases my throat and grips my hair instead, using it to yank me down horizontally along the seat bench of the car. Sharp pain spikes at the base of my head and throughout my raw ass. He’s hardly being gentle.

When I’m laying flat on the seat, he pins my hands above my head and straddles me. Using the tie he’d stuffed into his pocket earlier, he wraps my wrists and secures them tightly to the locked door handle.

He sits on my chest, his weight on me a threat in it of itself. “Utter that word one more time and I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again.”

I tug at the restraint in vain. Frustrated, I look back up at him. “You’d prefer killing me to having me divorce you?”

I never thought that my husband might be responsible for the “til death do us part” section of our vows. But then again, I also never thought I’d be mentioning divorce within thirty minutes of getting married.

Thiago runs a palm from my neck and slowly down my chest, eyes heating what feels like hundreds of degrees as he worshipfully contours the curves of my body. He doesn’t miss the way my nipples pebble into hard tips at his touch.

“I’d never kill you, I think about you too much,” he admits almost offhandedly. My heart jolts in my chest and I wonder if he can feel it. His gentle caress turns proprietary and he palms my breasts, massaging the flesh roughly with calloused hands. He tweaks my nipple and I cry out sharply. “But I’ll chain you to my bed and keep you away from prying eyes. I’ll whip your ass and use this tight little body every day until you can’t take it anymore. I’ll make it so that you can’t live without me, so that the thought of divorcing me alone will kill you.”

I watch with wary, exhilarated eyes as he straightens on his knees and starts to unbutton his trousers.

“You have no idea how much I’ve waited for this moment. How I’ve imagined catching you and finally unwrapping you.” His zipper comes down, the metallic sound unbelievably erotic. “The ways in which I pictured taking you, each more depraved than the next. Each growing progressively more deranged with every passing day. And now I have your perfect body laid out before me, even more flawless than anything I dreamed of, and you’re making me hold back. Ask me to fuck you, amor, or know that I’ll have to satiate myself in a very different way.” Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

He pushes his trousers down around his ass, his cock bouncing free of his boxers and bobbing between us. My throat dries when I get my first look at him. He’s large and thick, his skin golden like the rest of him. A throbbing vein runs along the underside of his shaft, his tip curving slightly upwards. Saliva pools in my mouth at the sight of him. I can’t say I’ve ever thought a penis was pretty before, but his is an absolute turn on.

Swallowing thickly, I shake my head. A dark grin touches his lips when he sees the way I stare at his cock. He reaches into a compartment between the two rows of seats and pulls out a small bottle full of brown liquid. Opening it, he dumps the contents onto my chest.

I squeal when the cool liquid hits me, the smell of whiskey simultaneously assaulting my nostrils. He just poured a mini of Jack on my breasts.

“What are you doing?” I ask, tugging at my restraints.

He grips my hair and pulls my head up, positioning it so it rests angled against the door behind me, my chin touching my chest.

“Open your mouth.”

A violent shiver racks my body at his order and I find myself obeying. My lips part.

“Wider.”

Pre-cum glistens on his tip. He spits in his hand and starts stroking his length languidly, staring down at me as I do what he says. My pussy clenches at the dark look on his face.

“If I feel teeth, I’m fucking your ass raw,” he warns. “No amount of whiskey will make that easy for you to take.”

Before I can react, he pushes my breasts together with both hands and slides his hard cock into that dark passage. His tip comes out the other side and plunges into my mouth, catching me off guard. I gag loudly, unprepared for his size and the bite of alcohol that comes with it.

“Relax your throat,” he orders, pulling out then thrusting forward once more. I open wider and loosen those muscles. “Good girl.”

His grip on my breasts is rough, bruising almost, as he presses them together to create the tightest passage possible. He pumps through the valley slowly, paced thrusts that allow him to watch as his length travels from between my tits and straight into my mouth.

Every push of his cock past my lips is dizzying, the size of him combined with the strong, potent alcohol pushing me past my limits. My head spins, my breaths come in ragged, limited bursts and I think I’m going to pass out.

Only the sounds he’s making keep me from doing so. Unintelligible moans, corrupted sounds of pleasure, and dirty praise fall in garbled groans from his lips. He throws his head back in the throes of passion and I stare up at the way his Adam’s apple dances while his cock is halfway down my throat.

“This mouth,” he praises.

His own breaths come in pants ripped from deep within his chest and even though he’s got me tied up and is straddling me, I feel the power of this moment like a surge of adrenaline in my veins. He’s at my mercy now and he doesn’t even know it, so I stick out my tongue and suction my lips around his dick, suckling him deeper into my mouth with every one of his thrusts. Triumph burns in my belly when I see the answering violent shudder that racks through him. It’s darkly rewarding to see him as affected as I am.

His chin drops down, his blackened, demented eyes finding mine and taking stock of the fact that I’m in control. A crazed level of lust flashes through them and he releases my breasts. One hand wraps around my throat and the other splays against the window as he leans forward, hips hovering above my face now.

This new angle gives him unprecedented access to my mouth. He grins when he sees the way my eyes widen, and then he starts plowing into me. His thrusts reach so far down into my throat that they cut off my air supply and gag me.

He pounds into my mouth with rapid, vicious thrusts, enjoying the choking sounds falling from my lips.

“I said I wanted to come all over your tits, but I’m going to paint your tight little throat instead to thank it for all its hard work,” he growls.

Tears squeeze out from the corners of my eyes but I refuse to look away from him. Based on the sounds he’s continuing to make, I’m still in control and I won’t let him take that from me.

I hum around his length, sending vibrations running up his shaft. He bites out a curse and shoves in to the hilt, holding himself there. My mouth is stretched to beyond the point of pain, my lips one move away from splitting. I try to breathe through my nose, but there’s no oxygen.

“Do you like getting your mouth fucked by your husband?”

I shake my head once, forced to move his cock with my mouth, and he laughs.

“You look obscene.”

He pulls out. I rip in a desperate breath, mouth wide, and he uses the opportunity to plunge right back in. All nine inches make their way back down my bruised throat.

He grabs my wrists where they’re tied together and uses them as an anchor as he pulls his hips away, rolling them back and forth as he picks a rapid rhythm back up. Saliva and pre-cum mix together and leak from the corners of my mouth and down my cheeks.

“I think you love it. And I think you’re going to look beautiful with a mouthful of my cum.”

Thiago’s eyes close, his face screwing with pleasure, his thrusts getting progressively more frantic. I shift my tongue from side to side, brushing wetly against his shaft and he groans loudly.

Finally, he shoves all the way back down my throat and stays there. A harsh wave of shivers hits him, making him shake, and then he’s coming with a loud curse.

His cock pulses in my mouth, jet after jet of warm cum hitting the back of my throat just like he promised. I do my best to swallow it down, but between that and his hard dick still being in my mouth, I choke.

He stays there for a couple more minutes, enjoying the heated warmth of my mouth as he comes down from his orgasm.

Finally, he pulls out. He puts himself away and pulls his trousers back up his hips, tucking his shirt in his waistband.

I’m breathing roughly, my face a mess of saliva, cum, tears, and mascara. When his eyes come back to mine, there’s a soft look in them. It’s almost scarier than the unhinged violence I’m used to because of the way it tugs at a part of me that resides deep in my chest.

Thiago leans in and kisses me, a decisive claiming of my lips with his, his tongue swiping confidently against mine. I expect him to keep going, to angle my face and extend the kiss but instead he pulls back.

His gaze tracks my lips as he retreats, a slow, cocky smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and revealing white teeth. His eyes flick to mine and raze me to the ground with one possessive look, his smile widening when he takes in my blown pupils, my parted lips, and the fact that I’m leaning in, wordlessly searching for his retreating mouth with my own.

With one look, he makes me understand who’s really in control here. I may have run from him for a couple months, I may have made him chase me, but as easily as with the press of his lips against mine, he’s got all the power back over me.

He makes it clear that what I ran away to avoid – that feeling of being entirely consumed and obsessed with him – he can flip back on inside me with no effort at all.

And that’s how I know I have to resist the call to sleep with him. Already, the urge sings through my veins, begging me to ask him to fuck me, but it needs to be ignored.

Only once he’s rubbed my face in my own desperation for him does he bring his mouth crashing back down on mine, devouring me.

We eventually separate, both of us gasping for air. Thiago pushes the hair lovingly back from my face, the touch more tender than anything he’s done since catching me.

I can’t tell which part of him is more possessive; his stare, his touch, or the words he whispers sinisterly against my mouth.

“My pretty little wife,” he purrs. “You’re all mine now.”