He gave me no time to catch my breath. Still on the sofa, he hooked one of my legs over his shoulder, spreading me wide open. His cock nudged at my entrance, slick with my arousal. With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside me to the hilt, stretching my walls around his thick length.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he growled, starting to move—slow at first, savoring the tight drag, but quickly building to a punishing rhythm. Each pump drove deep, his hips slamming against mine, his balls slapping rhythmically against my ass. I wrapped my free leg around his waist, my nails digging into his back, urging him deeper.
He angled perfectly, hitting that sensitive spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyelids. Sweat slicked our bodies, the sofa creaking under the force of our movements. His mouth latched onto my neck, sucking possessive marks, his teeth biting down as he pounded harder. "Mine," he rasped between thrusts. "All fucking mine."
Those words sent me spiraling. I clenched around him, milking his cock, and he lost control—his thrusts turning wild and erratic, driving even deeper until he buried himself fully and came with a guttural roar, hot spurts of cum filling me completely, pulsing inside as his body shuddered in release.
We collapsed together, breathless, his weight pressing me down in the most satisfying way. He kissed my forehead, still buried deep inside me. "You're everything, Elena."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Igor
"Milan's reached out again," Anna called from the studio doorway, a stack of papers in her hands, excitement barely contained.
"This time it's the editor of Vogue Italy," she said, stepping in and dropping the folder on Elena's desk. "She wants you at a fashion dinner next week. And Gucci's creative director wants a meeting — possible collaboration."
I was on the sofa watching Elena. She sat at the desk, her blond hair pinned up with a pencil; a few strands had fallen against her cheek. She was bent over the sketches, brow furrowed, biting her lower lip until it went pale.
That look was all too familiar. She always did that when she was thinking — like a focused student.
"Anything else?" she asked without looking up, her pencil flying over the paper.
"Three boutiques want to carry your new line," Anna rattled off, flipping through her notebook. "Two investors want meetings — one from Switzerland, one from New York. Oh, and the Florence Academy invited you to be a guest lecturer. The dean says your work is exactly what their students need."
Elena finally lifted her head and set the pencil down. She rubbed her temples; the gesture made her look tired.
"Tell them I need time to think. This all came on too fast. I have to weigh it carefully."
"Okay, boss." Anna nodded.
"And the celebration tonight? Are we ready?"
Elena's Milan deal had put her designs on the map. She'd arranged a celebration — part party, part industry showcase.
"All set," Anna said, turning a page. "Ms. Rossini flew in from Milan and is at the hotel. The hall's decorated. Champagne and catering are exactly as you asked. Most guests have RSVP'd."
She checked her watch. "It's five now. The party starts at eight. You've got three hours."
"Thanks. Good work," Elena said.
Anna left, and the studio quieted — only the distant hum of traffic beyond the window. I rose and moved to her side, coming up behind her. From there, I could see the dress on the sketch: a summer maxi, clean, flowing lines, elegant.
She leaned back and looked at me. From that angle, her neck seemed long and delicate; I could see the faint pulse at her throat.
"Feeling the pressure?" I asked, my fingers finding her temple.
"A little." She closed her eyes and let me. "It all feels unreal sometimes. I worry I'll wake up and it's gone."
My fingers paused. Something tightened in my chest. She still didn't feel safe. Even now, with her career taking off and me beside her, she feared losing it all. That fear was my fault. My betrayal five years ago had left a scar she hadn't healed.
"This isn't a dream." I bent and kissed her forehead. "You earned every bit of this. Your talent deserved to be seen. Your designs belong on the world's best runways."
A real smile broke across her face.
"Go get ready. Tonight I want to see you in one of your own gowns. Make everyone unable to look away."
"Everyone?" She looked up, a mischievous light in her eyes. "Including you?"
