Page 220 of Anti-Heroes in Love Duet

We didn’t speak even though I loved to tell her how I would fuck her, how she was responding to me. The cave was mostly dark, lit by an eerie light that swam up through the depthless blue waters and cast the entire cave in a neon glow. It lent itself to silence, to a quiet, urgent conquest of each other’s bodies underscored only by our harsh breaths and the light lap of water against the rocking boat.

Her breasts heated with my ministrations, the skin red even in the blue light thanks to my teeth and the rasp of my five o’clock shadow. I plumped both swells in my hands and alternated between the two, treating each like a decadent feast.

“Dio mio, Dante,” she finally panted softly. “I think I could come just from this.”

“Bene,” I growled against her trembling flesh. “This is how a man loves a woman with his body, Lena. He takes his time to pull her apart seam by seam until she is unraveled completely in his arms.”

She shuddered when I finally bent to find the hem of her dress and dragged it up, up, up, to tuck the end into the fabric gathered under her breasts so it would stay up.

My hand went straight to her sex, cupping the wet, swollen mound in my palm. My thumb pressed over her clit and rolled, the wet fabric of her underwear providing hot friction. She seeped through the satin and over my fingers, thighs trembling. The other went to her throat, thumb at her pulse to feel the way it kicked for me.

“Moglie mia,” I whispered against her bruised mouth. “My wife.”

“Yes,” she hissed, shivering as I hooked my fingers in the elastic of the panties and dipped two inside her. “Please, Dante, don’t tease me. I need you to fill me up. I need my husband to fuck me until my teeth ache.”

I groaned, shuddering as the chains broke, and the bestial side of me emerged. Before I could think, I was tearing open my belt and trousers, bringing my aching cock into the open. Elena tried to reach for it, but I slapped her hand away and lifted her into my arms. I moved to sit on the bench seat and brought her down on top of me, pausing to wedge my head at her sopping entrance.

“Ride me,” I told her, leaning back to pluck at those distended red nipples. “Ride your husband and show him how much you love his cock inside you. Filling that tight, greedy pussy.”

She gasped at my words, then took her lip between her teeth, balancing precariously because her arms were still trapped at her sides. Slowly, fucking excruciatingly, she lowered her cunt inch by inch down my shaft until she was seated fully on top of me. My dick kicked hard inside her tight folds, my balls already drawn tight.

I wanted to pin her hips and fuck up into her, to bruise the walls of her pussy so they ached from me for days because I knew even though we’d conquered our Italian villains, New York still waited on the horizon.

And New York meant we would be apart.

She seemed to sense my eagerness, or maybe it was her own. Her hips set a brutal pace, thighs quivering as she rose and lowered over me, fast and hard as our boat had rolled through the waves outside the grotto. The wet sound of our coupling echoed in the small space, loud and filthy enough to make us both curse with desire.

I leaned forward to take a nipple in my mouth and ravished it unforgivingly with my tongue and teeth. She groaned and quaked, then abruptly erupted all over me, her magma a cool sluicing of cum that dripped down my dick and soaked my balls.

I reached up to put my fingers in her open, panting mouth, wanting to be inside her in every way I could. She sucked on them as she came down from her climax, eyes glazed and heavily lidded but pinned on me. My wife in her rucked-up wedding dress riding me like she’d die if I didn’t fuck her harder, deeper.

“Please.” The word leaked from her mouth as she tried to move faster, but the weight of the wet dress and her own exhaustion stopped her from fucking me the way she wanted. “Per favore.”

She gasped as I moved suddenly, taking her to her back on the bench without losing our connection. I palmed her throat, took her mouth with mine, and I fucked her.

Ruthlessly, almost painfully. The slap of my balls against soaked thighs, the grunt of breath through my laboring lungs, and the sweet gasps of her pleasure as I bottomed out again and again inside her.

“Vieni per me, moglie mia,” I gritted out between my teeth as I reached down to pinch her clit tight. “Come for me, wife.”

I released the pulsing nub, and she screamed.

The sound bounced off the walls of the cave, echoing all around us.

She clenched around me so hard I couldn’t resist the tingling in the small of my back and the tightening of my balls that urged me to spill inside her. So, I did. I thrust hard every time cum shot from my balls, filling her pussy until it leaked and squelched around my still hard shaft. When I went to pull away because my bones were soggy and I was definitely crushing her into the seat, Elena held me to her with legs twined around my back.

“I love you,” she said straight into my ear like a secret before she kissed the lobe. “I love you so much it terrifies me, but I’m not even mad because even that makes me feel alive. I’ve thought a lot about what your mama said about all our choices and the choices of our ancestors before us, leading to this moment right now. It makes me believe in fate.”

“In any life I might have lived before, you were mine,” I agreed, running my nose down her cheek. “And I was yours. Still, I am sorry you’ve had to give up so much to be with me. I promise, I will fix it so that we can go home.”

“New York isn’t home without you. I don’t care about that.”

“But the law, you must miss it?” I was pressing because I wanted to know I was about to do the right thing.

She hesitated, her eyes turning vacant as her mind traveled across the Atlantic. “I do. I love the puzzle of a good case, how to make the laws bend and contort for me. But I’m sure I will find something else to do in Costa Rica.”

She wouldn’t.

Costa Rica was a mirage. She didn’t belong there.