Page 30 of Legacy

“Oh,” she breathes, a flush rising to her cheeks, but not from shyness. From pure, deliciouswant.

Her thighs shift, opening further.

And my control snaps like a fraying rope.

I crawl back over her, press my lips to her collarbone, her throat, the swell of her breast. I kiss every inch of her skin like I need it to survive.And when I look at her again, her pupils are blown wide, her fingers twitching where they rest on the sheets.

“You ready?” I murmur, my voice rough with everything I’m holding back.

“I want you,” she says, steady.“Now.”

I roll the condom on quickly, and then I’m settling between her legs, guiding the head of my cock to her entrance. The second I feel her, warm, soaked, welcoming, I nearly lose my fucking mind.

Her hands slide up my back, nails digging in. “Please, Angelo.”

I press in, slow. Inch by inch. Watching her face. Reading every breath, every shift of her hips. My name slips from her lips like a prayer, and when I’m fully seated inside her, I can’t move. Not yet.

“Christo,”I whisper. “You’re perfect.”

Her fingers find my jaw, tilting my face back to hers. She kisses me like she knows what I’m thinking.

That I’d give her everything, if she asked.

I start to move.

Slow. Deep. Every stroke carving her into me like a brand.

Her legs tighten around my waist, her hands clutching my shoulders like she’s bracing, not from pain, not from fear—but from how much she feels this.

Feels me.

Her eyes flutter closed, and I can’t let her look away. I need to see her; watch every reaction I draw from her body, every flicker of pleasure that crosses her face.

“Look at me,” I whisper, voice rough and low. “I want to see you come apart.”

Her eyes open, dark and wide and mine.

I roll my hips, pressing deeper, slower, angling just right until her mouth parts on a gasp.

“There,” I breathe, my fingers sliding down to stroke over her clit in slow, lazy circles. “That’s where you feel me the most, huh?”

“Dios—Angelo,”she pants, arching beneath me.

Her body welcomes me like it was made for me. Her softness, her warmth, the way she tightens around my cock with every thrust—fuck.I’ve never wanted anyone like this. Never needed someone like this.

I’ve been with women. I’ve made them moan, made them beg.But this?

This is something else entirely.

It’s her thighs trembling around me.

It’s her scent on my skin.

It’s the way she says my name like it means something more than it ever has before.

And maybe it fucking does now.

She gasps, her hips rising to meet mine, chasing every thrust with greedy urgency.