His Possession

SEX WITH MY husband is only great when I have his brother in my mind.Instead of my husband inside me, I picture his brother deep in me, how his rough, calloused would feel wrapped around my neck, the feeling of his naked body pressed against mine, the scandalous things he would whisper that would caress my skin like the finest of silks, the tantalizing positions we would be in as I reach somewhere where I've never been. What-"Nicole!" My husband gasps my name one last time as he comes inside me with a sloppy thrust. He collapses right next to me with his naked body pressing against mine. His gasps for air trickle down my neck as if he ran a mile and all I can do is blink and stare at the beige-colored ceiling above me as I try to not let disappointment wash all over me even though it happens every time. Gianni cums faster than the speed of light as soon as his male part is inside me and all I can do is lay under him lifelessly, whimpering in pain.The freedom to make your own decisi

THE RIDE BACK home is filled with silence, not the kind which is peaceful where you're assured everything is fine, this silence is the silence before a deadly storm is about to hit— the kind that screams danger and settles dread deep in your bones.Gianni didn't see Alessio having me wrapped in his arms but he did see me standing close to him and he isn't happy about it, his fisted hands, harsh breaths, and the sound of his lips grinding makes it clear."Gianni—" "Don't spit a word till we reach home."Shuddering with fear, I kept my lips sealed. By the time we pulled up in the parking lot, I was trembling and soaring with anxiety that keeps doubling every passing second.A yelp escapes my lips as my husband walks up to me as I try exiting the car and wraps the back of my neck in a murderous grip."Gianni," I whisper with tears springing in my eyes because of the pain.With no word leaving his mouth, I am dragged inside of the house in an animalistic way— with my feet half in the air

THAT VOICE BELONGS to none other than the man wrapped in whiskey and sin.My attention falters from Zoe and fixates on Alessio who isn't looking at me, his roughly calloused hand is outstretched in Zoe's direction along with his whole attention on my new friend.He's asking her to dance, I think to myself. Standing in the corner, I see Zoe put her hands in Alessio's who holds it in a firm grip and both of them retreat to the dance floor without sparing me a single glance.Suddenly it's like I'm the bland painting on a wall—not captivating enough to have anyone's attention and not alluring enough to have my own husband dance with me. He has his arms wrapped around a woman's waist whose identity I didn't know of—surrounded by more couples. The love dripping from most people's gaze is so painstakingly prominent that it feels like someone's punching a hole through my heart.Why don't I have anyone who loves me like this? Why don't I have anyone who wants to dance with me? Why don't I hav

MY WHOLE LIFE—whenever I think that things couldn't go worse—life yells surprise and the next second everything goes downhill.The ball, the phone, Alessio, haven't left my mind along with his words, I will give you what you want. I am not having trouble believing Alessio but I'm having trouble thinking about what I want.Do I want to get away from this life? Do I want to leave Gianni? Not sure. I want both of these things but what will I even do after I leave this life behind? I've known nothing but Gianni and his likes and dislikes all my life and without him, I am not sure what my life will be left to.But those things are the least of my concerns now because my sister–Alyssa, is here. Strolling through my closet looking at all my dresses with that sparkle in her eyes she's always had when she sees something she likes.My life was never sunshine and rainbows, like the hundreds of fairy tales I've read— it was like a horror story with no light peeking through the curtains and Alyssa

BEING A PART of this-mafia world as a woman always meant attending numerous balls, and parties every other day.Today, yet again, we're supposed to attend a charity ball and this ball is the most exquisite of all because Gianni went out of his way to order my old make-up and hair stylist for me."Can you please style my hair down?" I ask, eyeing Martha in the mirror as she rummages around the drawers to put hundreds of pins on the counter."No. Your husband ordered it to be put up." A harsh breath escapes me as I try to ignore the scalding pain shooting in the side of my head that may or may not be because my husband banged it against a wall this morning. Martha is a woman of few words, who can turn her senses on or off whenever and wherever she pleases- like right now, clad in nothing but a robe, my bruises and scars on momentary display but she chooses to ignore that along with the huge bump on the side of my head."Looks like you're forgetting your manners, Nicole." A hiss escape