Page 73 of Bellini Bound

The minute we returned home, I was all over Allie—my hands in her hair, my lips fused to hers, our bodies pressed flush as I carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind us, I ate up the space between us and the bed, laying her down on the mattress.

Her long brown hair fell around her head like a halo, and I gazed upon the angel who, for however brief a time, I had been allowed to call mine.

Teeth descended on her lower lip when she caught me staring, a rush of pink moving up the skin of her neck to settle on her cheeks.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

I shook my head, crawling toward where she lay. “Just wanted to take a minute to appreciate the beauty.”

A shy smile touched her lips, her hands roving over my shoulders. “You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself, Mr. Bellini. Though I much prefer the view when all your clothes are off.”

Reaching behind my head, I tugged off my shirt, tossing it to the floor.

Allie sighed, spreading her palms over my exposed chest. “That’s better.”

“What else?” I demanded.

She blinked up at me.

“What else do you like?” I’d never asked, had never cared about the answer before now.

Her touch moved upward from my chest so that she was cupping my stubbled cheeks. “Your skin on mine. Your lips branding me everywhere. Your cock thrusting between my legs until I see nothing but stars.”

“Stars, huh?” I ran a fingertip over her collarbone before dipping my head to suck on the pulse point fluttering at the base of her throat. “I think I can manage that tonight.”

She moaned, her back arching as her body sought out more contact.

Painstakingly slowly, I removed each piece of clothing from my wife before shedding the rest of mine. Then, my hands skimmed over her naked form, cataloging every inch and committing it to memory, because that’s all I’d have left of this incredible woman after tonight.

It was impossible not to notice that her once-flawless skin was now covered in purple marks—the result of my biting and gripping her too tightly. Upon seeing the destruction I’d left in my wake, a lead weight of self-loathing settled in my gut.

Allie was the type of woman who deserved to be worshipped, and I’d treated her no better than a whore.

I fucking hated myself for it.

“Enzo.” She clutched at my back, trying to draw me closer. “I need you.”

“You have me,” I whispered against the skin of her neck. I almost added that she always would before I caught myself, and something inside me shattered with the knowledge that this would be the last time I ever held her like this.

Voice breathy, she begged, “Take me to the stars.”

Never again would I be able to look up at the night sky without thinking of her, a bittersweet reminder that I’d once been in possession of perfection and been forced to let it go.

Dipping my hand between her thighs, I found her more than ready, so I lined myself up and drove home with a fluid roll of my hips.

Home. That’s what being inside her felt like. As if this was where I’d always belonged, and I never wanted to leave.

Fingers dug into my ass, urging me to move.

So I did.

With aching precision, I pulled out to nearly the tip before shoving in again, the lazy drag of my sensitive head against her inner walls enough to drive me insane. Every instinct demanded I pick up the pace, but I battled against those primal urges, keeping my thrusts even and measured in a desperate attempt to extend this moment, wanting to make it last forever.

My lips found hers, my tongue teasing inside her mouth as I swallowed her moans, hoping that by absorbing them they might smooth over the fractures of my broken soul.

Spoiler alert: nothing was enough to keep jagged edges from tearing me to shreds inside.

Allie had no clue that I was bleeding out internally, suffering a slow and painful death, while I brought her to the peak of pleasure, not once but twice, before I finally succumbed to it myself.