Page 93 of Brutal Heir

CHAPTER 36

IT WAS EVERYTHING

Rory

I’ve never felt so alive. Or so utterly wrecked, in the best, most breathless way imaginable. A part of me was certain I would never enjoy sex again. I feared Chip Armstrong had ruined me forever. As if Conall hadn’t done enough of a number on me first.

But this? This was exactly what I’d been waiting for.

Alessandro’s formidable body moves against mine, each stroke claiming me, possessing me, branding me. And feckin’ hell, I want all of it.

After Conall, I’d vowed never to be taken for a fool by a ruthless, powerful man again, but with Alessandro, all my vows have gone to hell. And if I’m headed there anyway, I may as well enjoy the ride.

My hands curl around the curve of his muscled arse as I drive him deeper inside me. I need more. I want him closer, deeper, harder.

The fire building between us for the past month rages like wild, and I’m so ready to burn. Flames lick across my veins with each desperate thrust, our movements growing more frenzied.

A tremor builds low in my belly, hot and wild and terrifying in its intensity. But it’s not just physical, it’s something deeper, like a dam inside me cracking wide open.

For a moment, it’s too much. Too big. Too raw. Tears burn at the edges of my vision. Years of control, of keeping everything locked up tight, are gone in the heat of his touch, in the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing worth living for.

My breath catches hard in my chest, and I cling to him like he’s the only thing anchoring me to the world. The pleasure builds until I’m writhing beneath him, the hard ridge of his cock stroking my clit. Harder.

“I’m so close,” I groan.

“Good girl, Rory,” he rasps, his own breaths coming in ragged spurts as he pounds into me. “Come for me,only me.”

A sob breaks free, half-pleasure, half-release, as the orgasm crashes through me, wild and uncontrollable. It tears through every wall I’ve built, every fear I’ve buried.

Alessandro falls seconds after, his cock twitching inside me and filling me with his warm cum. His forehead falls against mine, body blanketing my own.

And in that breathless, unraveling moment, I’m not the girl who ran. I’m not the broken survivor, or the careful nurse holding everything together.

I don’t flinch. I don’t freeze. I don’t feel that choking fear clawing up my throat.

I feel alive. Fierce. Free.

I’m just me. Completely undone, unguarded, entirely his.

And I feel… whole.

“Cazzo, wildling, that was incredible.” Alessandro’s breath skates across my lips before he presses them to my mouth once again.

“It was something all right.” I’m still breathless, every part of me tingling, from my spine down to the tips of my toes.

Alessandro rolls over to lie beside me, one arm curled possessively around my waist, his breathing still a little ragged, chest rising and falling. I lean my head against his chest, on the left side, the part that’s wholly undamaged and guards his heart. The room smells like sex and sweat and something far more dangerous. Hope.

I should be panicking. Spinning out. Making a list of all the ways this was a terrible idea. But all I can do is feel.

The ache between my thighs, the ghost of his mouth on my skin, the faint pressure of his fingers where they held me like I might run.

I press a palm to my chest. My heart’s still beating like a war drum.

Because this wasn’t just sex. It was everything.

He didn’t just touch my body. He saw every shattered piece of me and didn’t flinch.

It had been the first time in forever that I’d let someone see me. Not just the girl with the bite and the sharp tongue, but the woman who still wakes up some nights gasping for air, the woman with scars no one can see.