My hands fly back to the headboard to hold me as my cock pulses inside Eve.
Dante never slows.
Never stops fucking me through it.
His praise is hot against my skin.
His long cock hits so perfectly inside me I see static.
“Beautiful,” he growls. “So fucking beautiful when you break for us.”
We collapse into it.
Eve moaning. Dante cursing in Italian.
My whole body trembling. Flooded. Complete.
After, Eve presses a kiss to my temple, brushing damp hair from my forehead with fingers that tremble just slightly.
She lingers—her eyes warm, her voice soft.
“You were fucking perfect,” she whispers. “I hope you finally see it now… what it’s like to be wanted out loud.”
My throat tightens.
I nod, too raw to speak.
She smiles, then rises with slow grace, her body slick and glowing in the low light.
Dante wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her in close.
His other hand fists her breast, thumb brushing the peaked tip.
Eve cups the back of his head, drawing him into a kiss—deep, slow, tasting of everything we just shared.
“You were fucking perfect too,piccola,” Dante murmurs. “You opened him up like you were born to do it. Look what we made together…”
They look down at me in satisfaction as our bodies grind to a slow stop.
Dante’s hands leave her body and rub up my thighs.
“We made a ruined mess of him.”
She hums against his mouth, satisfied and sated, before slipping away.
The sound of running water greets her as she disappears into the bathroom—steam already curling into the room, fragrant and warm.
But Dante stays.
Still inside me.
Still holding me.
And I’ve never felt more undone… or more whole.
Firm hands rub up my body, then he leans down to meet me. He pulls my hips into him, making sure we don’t move from each other an inch while he kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before.
His mouth, his tongue, seem to pass a thousand confessions to me at once.
