Before she can finish her question, I crash my mouth to hers. She goes rigid at once
I cage her in against the train’s wall, moving my mouth across her lips. I’ve never kissed anyone on the mouth like this. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I move purely on instinct, claiming, crushing, maybe even bruising, until her lips part beneath mine. Sweetness floods my mouth. I plunge my tongue inside like I’m fucking her with it.
She fists her hands in the collar of my leather jacket. But she doesn’t do more than that. She doesn’t draw me closer. But she doesn’t try to push me away, either.
I pull her closer instead. My control is fraying. Should have never fucking started this.
Aurora whimpers into my mouth. Her tongue touches mine.
And I am fucking done for.
All the years I’ve spent dreaming of her. Flowers and granita and sun and sea. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Blood and sweat and smoke and come.
It all collides inside me. Explodes with a force I can’t even hope to contain, until my vision goes nearly black with need.
I rip her leggings and panties down, exposing her pussy. She arches and whimpers again when I grasp her clit between my fingers and squeeze. With my other hand, I free my cock, groaning when the tip bumps against the silken skin between her thighs.
Her head thrashes back, away from me.
“Yes,” she says, rubbing her pussy on me. “Yes.”
“Say ‘yes’ one more goddamn time,” I growl savagely, “and I will actually do it, Aurora. Right fucking here. Right fucking now. And I won’t stop even if one of those fucking porters comes in.”
Her eyes are huge behind her sunglasses. Breath tears in and out of her. Her lips are swollen. Because of me.
Fucking Christ. She’s a virgin. Her first time should be in a big, beautiful bed with rose petals or some shit scattered all around it.
But instead, her first time will be with me.
On a train to Toronto.
If she says that fucking word one more fucking time.
“Yes.”
I surge forward. No hesitation.
No condom.
Aurora gasps, then bites down on the scarf.
“Don’t scream,” I grunt. My muscles flex as I shove myself further into her tightness. She’s so deliriously fucking hot down here. But she’s not wet enough to fully take me yet. I press my thumb to her clit, beginning a demanding rhythm that makes her shudder beneath me, squeeze tighter around me, which I didn’t fucking think was possible.
She doesn’t scream. But she does scrunch her face up in pain. She might bite a hole right through the scarf at this rate.
“Tell me to stop, Aurora.” I rub her clit harder. Bury myself deeper. “Fucking say it.”
I don’t know if it’s her pride or her foolishness or her way of letting go of the boy she once loved in Sicily. But she doesn’t take that last chance I give her. She doesn’t tell me to stop.
She wraps her arms my neck.
And wraps her legs around my back.
I brace one arm on the bench and start ruthlessly fucking into her. Her body jerks with each thrust, her tits bouncing in her sweater. Tears stream down her cheeks, and I groan like I’m the one in pain. Because maybe I fucking am. I drag my mouth desperately across her skin, sucking and kissing away the tears even while I’m the one who fucking put them there.
I don’t know how to fix any of this. I don’t know how to stop it. How to go back to what it was before I knew what it was like inside her.
Aurora’s expression slackens. The scarf falls from between her teeth, and she gives a long, low moan. Even with the furious pace of my thrusts, I can feel the beginning quiver of her cunt around me. She’s wet now. Maybe from arousal, maybe from blood.
