Page 87 of Vicious Heir
The confession makes my breath catch. He's being more open than I've ever heard him, more vulnerable. Like maybe this means something to him too, even if he won't admit it. It’s as if, now that this is happening, he’s taking the chance to say the things that maybe he left unsaid before.
“You can have me,” I whisper. “We don’t have to stop this time.”
A series of emotions flicker across his face—pain and yearning and a need so deep that it makes my chest ache. He leans forward, kissing me gently, and I feel his cock nudge against me as his hand slides down my side.
And then he stops, freezing momentarily.
“Shit.” He swears again, this time in Italian. “I don’t have condoms.”
Fuck. I look up at him, chewing on my lower lip. “Just pull out,” I whisper.
“You know that’s not safe.” He starts to retreat, and I reach for him, my hand around the back of his neck as I look up at him pleadingly.
“Please, Elio,” I whisper. “I feel like I’m going to fucking die if we have to stop again.”
His eyes flutter shut for a moment, and he lets out a breath through his teeth. His cock, lying heavily on my stomach, throbs. I reach down and slide my fingers along his length.
“Fuck, Annie, that’s not fair,” he whispers.
“What’s not fair is how much I want you. Please?—”
His body tenses, his muscles rippling with the effort to hold back. “Beg for it,” he says finally, through his teeth. “Beg me, and I won’t be able to say no.”
“Please.” The word tears from my lips effortlessly. “I don’t want to stop again, Elio. Please fuck me. Please. I need you inside of me. Please don’t stop.”
He curses under his breath, a string of Italian as he reaches between us, his hand wrapping around his thick shaft as he angles it down, nudging the swollen head between my folds. I gasp when he slides it back and forth, through my wetness, the tip nudging against my clit and dragging a helpless moan from my lips.
"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs, positioning himself at my entrance. "Tell me if you need me to stop."
“I will,” I promise, my hips already arching into him. “Please, Elio?—”
“You can have my cock,cuore mio,” he murmurs. “Just take it a little at a time.Fuck?—”
He sucks in a breath as the thick head slips inside of me, and I feel a sharp burn of pain, and then a stretch. Elio goes very still, only the tip inside of me.
“Are you alright?” he murmurs, and I nod, speechless.
“Don’t… stop,” I manage after a moment, and he lets out a low, dry chuckle.
“I have to go slow too, Annie. Or I’m not going to last. You’re so fucking tight, so hot—God,I’ve been waiting a fucking lifetime for this.” He nudges his hips forward, another inch sliding into me. “I can’t let it be over too soon.”
Inch by inch, Elio slides into me. He holds my gaze, his expression taut with pleasure and pain and a devastating well of emotion in his eyes. He brushes my hair away from my face as he slides into me further, his hand cupping my cheek, and he never looks away. Not for a single moment, as he slips inside of me until he’s filling me completely, until I’m stretched around him and so fucking full.
"You feel perfect," he groans, his face buried in my neck as he shudders above me, holding himself there. "Like you were made for me."
It feels like I was. Like no one else was ever supposed to be here. Like, the only way I could ever experience this was with this man. I wrap my legs around him, arching my hips, and somehow it feels as if he goes deeper. We both cry out at the sensation.
"Annie." He gasps, and I feel him throb inside of me. "You're going to ruin me."
"Good," I whisper, rolling my hips against him inexpertly, trying to find a rhythm. "Ruin me too."
Elio lets out a shuddering moan, and he begins to thrust. “I can’t last long,” he gasps, his hand moving between us to stroke my clit. “I want you to come for me again,cuore mio.”
“I don’t know if—” I gasp, and he thrusts into me again, his movements gradually picking up pace as my body adjusts to him, as he loses control.
“You can. Come on my cock, Annie. Let me feel it."
His fingers work my clit as his cock slides into me again and again, the sensation of it so good, so overwhelming that it makes me want to sob with pleasure. I grip his shoulders, his arms, my nails digging into his flesh as I learn the rhythm, as I meet him again and again as he pants and thrusts into me.
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