Page 107 of To the Chase

“Only yours,” he agreed. “Fuck me, Beatrice.”

I snapped my hips harder, chasing the edge.Giving it to him. Just like he’d asked—just likeweneeded. He filled me completely, over and over, the thick drag hitting all the right places, making me dizzy.

A needy mewl broke free. Ihadhim yet…

I was still desperate for him.

I leaned forward and kissed him, open-mouthed and messy, our tongues tangling as I continued riding him with abandon. His hands slid up my back then to my ass again, pulling me down hard every time I lifted off him.

“I can’t get close enough,” I cried in frustration. We couldn’t get any closer than we were. I didn’t understand this yearning in my gut, but I couldn’t shake it.

“You’re here. I’m here.” He wrapped his arms around me so tight I could finally take a full breath. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“I want you,” I whined, kissing along his jaw. “Let me have you.”

“You do. Completely,” he vowed.

“Salvatore.” I licked the divot in his chin. “Show me. Show me how I have you.”

His grip turned bruising, his hips driving up harder now, meeting me thrust for thrust, a frenzy of motion that stole my breath. Through it, he murmured reassurances. Telling me he was sorry, he missed me, he wasn’t going anywhere, he was mine. Calling me beautiful, sexy, unbelievable. Promising me devotion and honesty. Safety and trust.

And he kept fucking me with savage pumps of his hips that made stars bloom behind my eyes.

Perfect.

Sweat slicked our bodies, every breath a shared ragged gasp. He buried his face between my breasts, groaning my name again and again. My orgasm coiled, tight and blinding, building with every brutal grind, every desperate thrust.

“Come with me,” I begged, holding his face, staring into those dark, beautiful eyes. “Fill me up, Salvatore. I want to be dripping with you all night.”

He nodded frantically, breath catching. “I’ll give you what you need, beautiful. I have no choice.”

I let go. My head fell back as I cried out my pleasure, my inner walls pulsing and clamping. Tore’s answering groan was pained as he held me through it, bracing my back as I thrashed and writhed. And when I thought it was over, he flung me onto my back, yanked my legs to his hips, and pummeled me.

Unrelenting.

Frenzied.

He fucked me into the couch like a madman on a mission to destroy me and stared into my eyes with soft, loving devotion, tipping me straight over the edge again. I was falling blindly, grappling for something, anything to hold on to, but I wasn’t alone for long. Tore planted himself at the end of me and buried his face in my throat, shaking in my arms as he coated me with fiery heat.

We clung to each other as we came down, the aftermath as intense as the storm. Tore lay on me, my breasts cushioning his head, his arms tunneled around me. I stroked his hair, my movement languid and wrung out.

Whatever happened from here, I would never doubt this man wanted me. Just like I couldn’t deny my desire for him. Even now, bones liquid and a deliciously aching core, I would have started all over again if he’d said the word.

This was surely a little bit of madness.

But maybea lotof everything good too.

“You’re mine,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

He lifted his head from my chest, his gaze hazy but locked steadily on mine.

“I am, Beatrice,” he promised. “I’m yours.”

Chapter Forty

Salvatore

Eventually,webothputour clothing back on. I mourned every inch of Bea’s skin as she covered it, but it was necessary. If we didn’t, there was a danger we’d start all over again and never say the things that needed to be said.