◽ MIND FUCK ◽
◽THIRD PERSON'S POV◽
The room was full of too many dangerous men. Another boring day—just another minute of her life spent in the wrong place. Marian navigated the sea of unfamiliar faces, hating how most of them looked so normal. She wondered how many people had fallen victim to them, oblivious to the true nature of the masks they wore. She didn’t want to be anywhere near them, but she had come down to see Marco.
Somehow, she was getting more attached to him, despite his unpredictable moods.
She knew he would be busy. After all, this gathering was only a veiled threat to a rival cartel that had been distributing firearms in their territory. Funny how even they followed some rules. It was a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed.
The violence was relentless, but they had rules.
A man bumped into her, causing her to stumble. She quickly grabbed the table beside her to steady herself.
Her hand instinctively went to her stomach—a habit she’d developed whenever she was startled, as if to make sure the baby was still okay. "I’m so sorry," the man apologized, eyeing her curiously. "Hmm, I haven’t seen your face before," he added, trying to strike up a conversation that only made Marian more uncomfortable.
She didn’t want to talk to a drug lord, hired killers, or gun dealers. She just wanted to be anywhere but here. With a quick apology, she excused herself.
Nothing about today was special. She was only here because she had nothing to do upstairs. She hadn’t even bothered to dress properly, just thrown on one of the dresses provided for her when she’d first arrived. She was out of place. Noticing no familiar faces, she decided to head back to her room, only to spot Lorenzo talking to a few men she recognized from before.
She approached him, relieved to see someone she knew. "I didn’t know you’d be here today."
Lorenzo shook his head. "I didn’t know Marco would let you out of his room. This isn’t a safe place for you."
Tired of being treated like a child, Marian picked up a drink from a nearby glass table. "You said you don’t drink, right?" Marian noted as she reached for the cup. "That’s fruit punch," he said, but before he could continue, Marian downed the drink in one gulp.
She grimaced at the sour taste, and Lorenzo's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh my God, you shouldn’t have done that!" he exclaimed. "Call Marco. I’ll take her back to the room."
Marian didn’t understand his sudden panic—he was usually so laid-back. "Please don’t lock me in here alone again. I’ll die of boredom!" she pleaded, but the door shut firmly behind her.
"That was rude," she muttered, glancing around the room. It felt stuffy, even though the air conditioner was on full blast. She waved off the odd feeling, walking toward the only thing she admired in Marco’s room: the figurine on his shelf.
The door opened, and Marco entered, locking it behind him as he made his way toward her. Relief washed over Marian at the sight of him, and conversation suddenly felt easy. "I feel so hot right now," she said.
Marco hummed in acknowledgment.
"You should kiss me," Marian blurted out.
"No," he replied, though his tone was teasing.
"Just once, and I won’t ask again," she bargained, inching closer.
"Zorrita, you shouldn’t go around begging to be fucked while carrying my baby," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
"Shut up and kiss me. Then I won’t bother you anymore," she pressed, determined. She’d been dying to kiss him, and she wasn’t one to hold back her feelings.
She stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing a soft kiss on his lips.
It was like an invitation to him.
He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. It grew far more intense than she had expected, his hunger devouring her, and she gave in completely.
Just when things were about to heat up, he pulled away, his hair tousled from their make-out session. Marian wasn’t about to wait for him to make the next move—she knew he’d stop, so she pouted. "You know something, Marco?" she started. "We’ve had sex before. Why don’t we do it again, so I can remember all the details and know why I woke up limping the next day?"
"You said you’d stop," Marco reminded her, amusement flickering in his eyes.
"Not when you kissed me like that. That was the hottest make-out session I’ve ever had." She stepped closer to him, her confidence growing. "That should be the end of your stupid wish." He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, tell that to your body."
They both glanced down at the same time, and Marian shrugged. "You’re lying to yourself. Your body wants me."
Marco sighed, shaking his head, but there was a hint of amusement in his expression. "Are you okay?"
"Apart from the fact that I want to fuck you? Must be the drink. I’ve been feeling so hot since I drank it."
His eyes widened. "What drink?"
"Lorenzo's drink. After I drank it, he locked me in the room and told the blond guy to find you," she explained, oblivious to the concern on Marco’s face. He groaned, rubbing his temple.
"You took Lorenzo's fruit punch?" Marco groaned again, clearly frustrated. "That idiot never take his stupid fruit punch without spiking it."
Marian shrugged. "Anyways," She still felt hot, the strange warmth spreading through her body. "Maybe you should, i don't know, touch me." She winked playfully.
Marco shook his head, half-amused, half-annoyed. "You’re out of control."
She had tried her luck by reaching for his belt only for him to take her hand and fold it behind her back. Marian let out a playful laugh. "Oh, rough, me likey."
Marco rolled his eyes, but there was a trace of a smile. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. "Let me suck your dick, then," she suggested, as if it were a simple solution. "If you don’t want to fuck me, at least give me some pleasure. Finger me.
She was being far more forward than usual, and Marco looked at her with a mix of exasperation and concern. "You cause trouble every single time, don’t you?" he muttered.
Her body was burning with heat, and the desire inside her was impossible to control. She tugged at his pants, trying to get closer to him. Marco, with his usual self-control, resisted, even though it was clear he was tempted. His arousal was obvious, but he wasn’t giving in easily.
"Let me suck your dick," she pleaded again. "You’re clearly excited."
"No, you won’t be sucking anything," he replied firmly. "Not yet."
Marian giggled, teasing him. "So, I’m still going to suck it, huh?" She tapped his arm playfully. "I can’t wait. I know you’re big. I just don’t know how big."
Marco, deciding that this had gone on long enough, stood up and fetched a bottle of sleeping pills from his drawer. "Take these. You need to calm down."
But Marian wasn’t interested in calming down. She felt restless, the heat coursing through her. She grabbed his hand. "Please, Mr. A, I don’t feel okay."
Marco pulled his hand back. "You’re not in your right mind. If I wanted to fuck you, I’d at least want you to be aware."
She pulled him closer by the collar. "A drunk mind speaks sober thoughts, Stop pretending you don’t want me."
He sighed, clearly battling with himself. "Do it yourself, Marian. You’re not in your right mind."
"Besides," she said, voice lowering to a sultry whisper, "I’ve never touched myself. I didn’t get to explore that world before you… took it from me."
She was trying to manipulate him, and he knew it. But he also knew she wasn’t completely wrong. She was brave—or maybe just drunk on the aphrodisiac.
Marian took his advice and decided to touch herself.
She spread her legs, pulling down her panties. Her hand slid down, finding her clit. The sensation was new, but not enough. She wanted more. She needed more.
She forgot Marco was even there as she moaned, the pleasure overwhelming her. "Fuck," she breathed, her body trembling. "I can’t stop."
"God, you’re a fucking temptress," Marco groaned. He sat at the edge of the bed, watching her in awe. "You make me want to fuck you up."
He grabbed her hand, guiding her fingers deeper inside herself. Marian gasped as he took control, pushing her closer to the edge. He wasn’t gentle, but then again, Marco was never gentle. Even now that he was clearly holding back.
"Fuck," she moaned as she followed his lead, her body betraying her.
Marco pulled down his zipper, releasing his erection. He stroked himself slowly, watching her with dark eyes.
It was a sight Marian could barely believe. Watching him, touching herself, and still not satisfied.
"Do something to me," she begged. "I feel so hot."
"You’re under the influence of an aphrodisiac. I want you to be fully aware if I touch you," Marco said, his voice thick with restraint.
"Can I at least kiss you then?" Marian didn’t wait for an answer. She withdrew her fingers and sat up, pulling him toward her. She kissed him hungrily, desperate for more.
Marco grabbed her shoulders and stopped her. "Who said you could do that, gatita?"
They were both on their knees, facing each other on the bed. He guided both of their hands back to her, pumping her fingers faster, his own desire barely contained. Marian clung to him as her legs grew weak, the intense friction pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
With a scream, she came, her body shaking from the orgasm. But she still wasn’t satisfied. She wanted more—needed more.
She reached for Marco’s dick, slowly stroking him up and down. He grunted as her touch became firmer, rougher, and faster. His breathing grew ragged as he finally came, spilling onto her belly.
◽◽◽◽
Marian woke up feeling sore. She gasped as the memories of last night flooded back in disjointed flashes. Embarrassment washed over her as she realized how she had thrown herself at Marco. Her body grew hot just thinking about him.
She rushed to the shower, trying to scrub away the memory, but it played over and over in her mind like a movie. How was she supposed to face him again?
As she dried off, she looked down at her belly. It was starting to show, just slightly, as if she'd had a heavy meal. She touched her lower abdomen, still amazed that she was pregnant at only eighteen.
After getting dressed, she headed downstairs but was stopped in her tracks by BJ. She peeked around him and noticed there was no trace of the previous night’s party.
She sighed, knowing it was her own fault for drinking that punch in the first place. "I’m hungry," she announced, more to herself than to anyone else.
The kitchen was quiet. Mrs. Herbert hadn’t cooked, and she was nowhere to be found. So Marian decided to make herself some scrambled eggs and toast.
As she stood by the stove, Marco walked in. His presence filled the room instantly, commanding respect without a word. He looked more formal than usual, his hands resting in his pockets. The grey suit he wore made Marian’s breath catch in her throat as he approached her.
"Good morning, Mr. Angelini," she said cheerfully, trying to keep things light and hoping he wouldn’t mention last night.
Marco’s gaze didn’t waver. "Good morning, Miss Villan," he replied, his tone cool and measured.
The formality made Marian uncomfortable. She knew he was waiting for her to say something, but she wasn't ready to bring up what happened.
"Would you like some scrambled eggs and toast?" she asked after a long silence, hoping to shift the conversation.
He nodded, still staring at her with that intense look that made her feel like he was reading her mind.
She turned to get the toast, only to find Marco standing directly behind her when she turned back. Startled, she gasped.
"Why are you this close?" she asked, her voice shaky.
"You didn’t mind me being close last night," he teased, his voice low.
She knew it. This was what he had been waiting for. She had walked right into his trap.
"And you didn’t mind dropping the formalities. Why am I 'Mr. Angelini' again?" he added, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Marian’s usual composure faltered. She felt like a mouse caught in a trap, trashing around was only going to make it worst, unable to find her voice or the sharp comebacks she usually had.
"I’m sorry about last night," she said, trying to keep a professional face, though her heart was racing.
Marco chuckled, clearly entertained. "Apology accepted. But call me by my name, will you?"
He bent down so that his face was level with hers, their noses almost touching.
Her cheeks heated up under his gaze. "Okay," she agreed quietly.
"Now," he pressed.
"Marco," she whispered, barely audible.
"As expected. My name sounds better when you’re moaning it," he chuckled, watching her cheeks flush even more.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
