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I pull him down again, kissing him deep, letting the world fall away.
“He touched you, Pen,” he growls. “No one touches you.”
“I know…” I kiss his jaw, his stubble scraping my lips as my shaking fingers fumble with his shirt buttons. I can’t breathe, can’t think, not until he’s buried inside me, filling the void that’s been clawing at me anytime he is away. “But they didn’t know, right?”
He tugs my skirt down, hoisting me up with one rough tug so it peels off my hips and pools on the floor. No panties. His eyes catch it, and the grin that splits his face is pure animal, teeth bared like he’s ready to devour me whole.
“Nothing underneath. Jesus Christ, you’ve got me by the throat, don’t you?”
My finger drags down, tracing the hard ridges of muscle, those tattoos sprawling across him like a map of sin. My skin prickles, hypersensitive, drinking him in.
“You’re perfect,” I rasp, voice trembling with need.
Adriano grabs my shirt, tears it over my head, and tosses it to the floor like trash. His mouth dives for my nipple, hot and wet, tongue swirling rough around the stiff peak. I arch into him, spine bowing as electric jolts sear through me, but he freezes, and I choke down a frustrated growl, feral and needy.
“You smell so damn good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice thick with hunger.
“Adriano…”
He slams into me without warning, and my vision explodes into a haze of colors.
“Fuck, yeah,” he snarls, grabbing my ass to pull me closer, driving deeper until I feel him in my bones.
His moan rips through the room, raw and primal, and my body answers with a matching desperation, a filthy ache I can’t shake.
“I’ve thought about this pussy every damn night. You don’t know how many times I’ve fucked my hand to the memory, Pen. I’m a grown man, and you’ve got me begging. Put me out of my misery.”
“Fuck me,” I plead.
He shifts, his cock hitting that sweet spot, and I cry out, loud and shameless. Then he stops, pinning me with his stare.
“Look at me, Pen.”
It’s a command, hard and unyielding, not some soft request, and it sets me ablaze. I crave every piece he gives me, and lately, it’s more—more skin, more heat, more of his soul bleeding into mine.
I lock eyes with him.
“Keep looking,” he growls, thrusting again, slowly and so harshly. “See how we fit. Feel my cock stretching you. Tell me you love it.”
“I love it,” I scream, voice breaking as he pounds into me. “Don’t stop. Never stop fucking me like this…”
Sweat glistens on his forehead, his chest, dripping as he hammers into me. His groans are loud, deep and guttural, swallowed by the depraved rhythm of our bodies. I’m lost in it, drowning in the slick, messy heat of us.
“No one else,” he rasps, his onslaught merciless, splitting me open. “You’re the only woman. The only one.”
This isn’t tender. It’s not sweet. His thrusts are brutal, animalistic, ripping screams from his throat that echo off the walls. I don’t care who’s outside, who might hear the wet slap of skin, the raw cries. Neither does he. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t ease up, and I don’t want him to. My nails rake down his back, digging in, drawing red lines I know he’ll wear like a badge.
“I want to come,” I whimper, teetering on the edge, body coiled tight.
He slides a rough finger between us, rubbing my clit with bruising pressure. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he grinds out, voice strained, dripping with effort. “Drench this cock. It’s yours. All fucking yours.”
I shatter, screaming, shaking beneath him as the orgasm rips me apart. “Oh my God!”
He stiffens, grunting loud and ragged, and I clutch him tighter. He spills inside me, shuddering, his release a hot flood that leaves him trembling. I kiss his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat, sharp and addictive, and let out a breathless giggle.
“You’re so good to me. Have I told you that?”
A soft but wicked grin spreads across his face. “Yeah, but I’ll spend my whole damn life waiting to hear it again. That’s how deep you’ve got me hooked.”
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you too,” he says, claiming my mouth again, his kiss a promise laced with something I’m not sure of but is bound to be exciting.
Outside, his life is chaos, filled with blood, power, death. In here, it’s just us. And I know, staring into his eyes as he starts to move inside me again, that I’m fucked. Not just now, but for good. I’ve accepted that love is a cage, and I’ve locked myself in willingly. No idea where the damn key is and no regrets. Just him.
THE END