"Fuck.." I moan as my feverish skin makes me dizzy with lust. [Yes.] "Evet, Mila. You make me want to ravage you when I should be disgusted by the thought of even touching you." He mutters. "But I'm not. Instead, everything about you makes me mad with desire and I can not control it. God's, I tried to but I don't want to anymore." He removes his hand from the wall, wrapping his fingers around my jaw and he forces me to stare up at him. "You've already had a taste of me and one taste is all you get." I swallow loudly, throwing his words back at him. >>> When it comes to my prince charming, my life has been anything but a fairytale. The Esposito family robbed me of all I held dear to my heart. From the depths of my dignity to the depths of my son. I was living in continual terror; my body, as well as my trust and beliefs, were being exploited. Until one fateful day, I gained the strength to flee, dashing into an Irish bar and meeting a Turkish man. I stayed with him for the night before being compelled to return to the house of terrors. After being thrown down a flight of stairs 37 weeks later, I gave birth to my son. I knew who the father was the moment my son's gaze met mine, but I opted to keep it to myself. However, destiny had other plans for me, and I begged my son's biological father for protection as I fled the Italian mafia. We will work together to rescue our son and demolish their network, all while finding love along the way. My name is Mila Starkk, and this is my Screwed Up Love Story.
View MoreTWENTY-ONE YEARS LATER... "Where is Sandro?" I turn at the firm sound of my husband's voice, my nerves flutter in my stomach as I bite on my lower lip. "I believe he's in his room, dear," I state nervously. "Is he ready?" Aydem asks as he flicks out his hand and looks at his expensive gold watch. "He's still just a kid." "He's the heir to the throne of our family empire, and it's time for him to take his place." I look past his shoulder, shaking my head at our youngest daughter, Asli as she attempts to enter the living room. "I know. He was born for this and you have spent most of his life preparing him for it... But-" "But, you're his mother, and naturally you can't help but worry about his wellbeing." Aydem crosses the room, devouring the distance between us in no time and pulls me into his comforting arms. Twenty glorious years with this man hasn't diminished the power o
I lay motionless in our bed as I hear Aydem softly enter our room; he turns on the ensuite light, filling the room with a yellow glow before quietly closing the door behind him.The sound of cascading water sweeps through the room, I roll over and look at the time, it's six in the morning, and he's just stumbling through the door now.I throw back the duvet, swing my legs over the side of the bed and I open the door, leaning against the threshold as mists of condensation gather in the room."Good morning, dear," I utter, watching him through the glass screen as he lathers his body with soapHe comes to a halt for a split second, casting a glimpse over his shoulder before resuming his washing. "Günaydın, askim." [Goodmorning, my love.] He replies gruffly, placing the soap back onto the dish, he places his hands on the wall and bows his head as he lets the water wash away the sins he has committed.Sins on my behalf.
AYDEMs POV... I watch as my sassy wife exits the barn with a bounce to her step, and her perky ass swaying side to side. Gods! She has no idea of the internal frustration and hunger I battle with on the inside for her on a daily. Releasing a sigh that is heavy with animosity, I turn around to look at the work of art she's left behind on Castello's chest. I can't help but scrunch my nose, rubbing a hand over my own chest, as I can presently feel his agony. His head lulls side to side, and I step forward, kicking his leg with the tip of my shoe. "Oh, no you piece of bok! [shit!]. You can not pass out before the party has begun." I sneer, drawing my arm back, I drive it forward and slap him across the face with my open hand. The beautiful sound of flesh, hitting flesh, sweeps throughout the brightly lit barn. Internally, I grimace at the realisation that it is weirdly more gratifying to listen to, rather than the
Aydem and I walk hand in hand into the barn.Upon our arrival, we are greeted by Neriman who has Castello tied to a wooden chair. Blood spills from his fresh bullet wounds, as crimson liquid stains the hay that is randomly scattered across the ground.Castello grunts as he raises his head, new bruises in the shades of blue, purple and black as well as a cut lip mar his features. In my opinion, he deserves far worse and I have the perfect method that will have him screaming like a little bitch that hides beneath his cool, calm and collected demeanour.Neriman approaches us, and she begins to communicate with Aydem in their mother tongue. In the meantime, I take the pleasure to allow my eyes to continue observing the Italian scum in the vicinity. His usually pristine iron pressed attire is covered in filth and he is missing one of his extremely overpriced shoes.He still looks like a smug son of a bitch who would be a joy to break.
He pulls back, gazing down at me. "When you play with fire, askim. [my love] You are bound to get burned, scorched or fried. If you ever pull this bok [shit] again. I will bind you to our bed, and you will never be allowed to leave the room again." He growls, and I know he means every word."I know you mean well and I'm sorry," I say as I search his eyes. "But this was the only option we had. I had to use myself as bait."[No.] "Hayir, you didnt." He says coldly and I don't like the sound of his tone."I did." I snap, stepping out of his embrace. "If I didn't see him, Aydem. Who is to say he would not have followed us back to the villa where our son is sleeping and your cousins live with their children?" Placing my hands on my hips, I run the tip of my tongue over my top teeth. "He could have returned and figured out the layout of the villa as well as everyone's schedule," I explain trying to justify my actions.His eyes narrow as he blows air out of his
Slowly sipping on my glass of red wine as I look at Aydem over the rim, a small smile curves on the corners of my mouth.Setting his utensils down on his plate, he picks up his crystal glass with whiskey on the rocks and takes a sip from it, his eyes never leaving mine."You keep looking at me like that askim [my love], I'll have no choice but to take you right here, on this table, in front of all these people." He says roughly, setting his glass back down on the table.I place my glass of wine back down on the table too, "Is that a promise?" I ask seductively, leaning over the table.A lopsided smirk stains his gorgeous face, "You'd like that wouldn't you?" He chuckles, rubbing the side of his jaw.I get up from my seat and walk over to him, running my fingers through his hair as I settle on his lap. "Yes and No." I state honestly, leaning in, "I'd rather you take me in the bathroom where there won't be an audience." I whisper in
AYDEMS POV...THREE DAYs LATER...This time, I am aware of her presence even before I open the curtains to reveal my emerald green eyes. The very eyes she has the tendency to tell me how much she admires.I let out a little grunt, aware that my wife is watching as I gradually emerge from the darkness that refuses to release me.My wife...Ah, Gods, that sounds so fucking refreshing.Scrubbing a hand over my face, "Afternoon, askim." [my love.] I mutter into my pillow.Yes, you heard me right. I said afternoon, not, good morning. We are still on our inhouse honeymoon and the only thing we've been doing is fucking, snacking, napping and fucking some more.No, that's an outright lie.We have been fucking a whole lot more. And honestly, I don't know if I'll ever get tired of filling her and listening to her scream out my name as she climaxes beneath me. On top of me, or hunched over the bed with her ass up.
"That's right baby, take all of me." He growls.My eyes water, as I gasp, gag and moan.Struggling to breathe as he fills my mouth, undoubtedly giving every inch of himself to me. I take it all like a good wife that I desperately crave to be for him.I want him, I need every delicious inch he has to offer me.We mark each other in our most intimate places, claiming one another as my nude lipstick smears across the base of his cock. A statement that I deliberately make by showing him that I have put a ring on it and it is exclusively mine from this point forward. Saliva infused with premium precum slides down the side of my mouth, my chin and it drips onto my breasts.I swirl the tip of my tongue over the mushroom of his cock, slowly gliding my flat, moist tongue along his shaft and over his throbbing vein. Taking him in my mouth, inch by inch, I hollow my cheeks, sucking him off harder."Fuck, askim." [my love.] His
"Oh, just six teeny, tiny, minutes." I sing out in an airy tone. "Do you think you can control yourself for a full seven minutes, husband?" I breathe out, liking how it sounds as it rolls off the tip of my tongue"Are you trying to unman me?" His jaw ticks."Would it only take six minutes?" I raise an eyebrow, running my hand down my torso between my breasts."Fuck.." He breathes out, "Are you sure you want this tonight? Do you want me to fill you with my hands caressing every inch of your tempting body after-""I'll be yours to use for your enjoyment. My body is yours to use however you please." I breathe with excitement.His jaw locks, his eyes don't leave my breasts and every muscle in his delicious body tenses. I straddle him, "Your six minutes start now."I place my hands on his shoulders and I slowly start to grind against his swelling cock. "That didn't take long, dear," I whisper into the shell of his ea
"Don't breathe a fucking word!" He hisses harshly in my ear. I swallow the panic that coaxes the back of my throat. Fear forbids my body from moving, imprisoning me in its stillness. I am aware of his presence, yet, I refuse to submit to him. My terror-filled shouts are muffled by enormous hands that grip me tightly as he drags me flush against his torso. His tortuous fingers dig into the flesh of my neck, his fingertips bruising my skin. As I struggle in his grasp, the sound of his sinister voice advises me to Shut The Fuck Up. I continue to thrash against him as my head collides with the wall I am forced upon. "Don't scream. Don't even breathe a fucking word, Tesoro." (Treasure) He repeats as his rough lips brush against the shell of my ear. His hot breath fans the exposed skin on the crook of my neck, sending a long line of chills down my spine. He is close, almost too close for comfort and there was a time when
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