I line myself up, the head of my cock nudging against her soaked entrance. I want to do this with a little more finesse, a little more sensuality—but I’m too starved for her.
I thrust in—fast, deep, unforgiving.
Beatrice gasps like the air’s been punched out of her lungs, her body arching hard against the wall. Her palms splay against the concrete, legs shaking as I fill her completely in one brutal stroke.
She’s tight. So fucking tight.
“Holy shit,” she chokes, voice cracking.
I don’t give her time to adjust. Instinct takes over; every trace of gentleness leaves me. I grip her hips and start moving—fast, punishing strokes that make the shelves beside us tremble with every impact. My hips slam against the curve of her ass, my fingers digging into the soft flesh like I’m branding her.
Mine.
The sound of it—flesh on flesh, her breathless moans, my guttural groans—fills the small space like music. The room is thick with sweat, sex, and something darker.
I lean over her, chest to her back, mouth against her ear. “You feel that?”
She tries to speak but only manages a half-formed cry when I slam into her again, harder.
“That’s what you’ve been running from,” I hiss. “You think you can hide from this? From us? We are inevitable, baby. In. E. Vi. Ta. Ble.”
Her answer is a broken moan as she pushes back into me. Her walls clench—slick, greedy—pulling me deeper. My control frays by the second. I wrap her hair around my fist and yank her head back, her mouth falling open in a gasp.
“I know exactly what you are to me… and I’m not letting it go.”
She doesn’t speak. Her eyes flutter shut, her body trembling against mine.
I pull out suddenly and spin her again, slamming her back to the wall so I can see her face—red lips parted, pupils blown wide, hair wild around her shoulders.
I grab one thigh and yank it up over my hip, holding her open. With a single thrust I’m back inside her—deeper this time. Her head knocks against the wall as she cries out.
I kiss her… hard. No softness. Just teeth, tongue, and greedy fire. My hand wraps around her throat again, pinning her in place while I fuck her against the wall like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.
“You think any man could do this to you?” I hiss into her mouth. “You think Giacomo ever made you feel like this?”
Her eyes blaze, her nails tearing into my back. “No one feels like you.”
“Say it.”
“I hate that it’s you I want,” she breathes. “I hate it… and I still want you.”
The admission detonates inside me.
“Then stop fighting it.”
I slam into her harder. Once. Twice. She cries out and bites my shoulder to keep from screaming. I don’t slow down. Her leg is still hooked around me, barely holding her up as I take her against the wall like claiming her is instinct, not choice.
“You should’ve let me in weeks ago,” I rasp against her lips. “I could’ve had you like this every night.”
Her hands are everywhere—clawing at my chest, gripping my hair, dragging me closer even as she trembles from every deep thrust. Her other leg wraps around me now, locking me inside her completely.
“You feel what you do to me?” I grind deeper, burying myself to the base. “Your body sings for me.”
“God, Matteo—” she gasps.
I slam into her again. “That’s not God inside you. That’s me.”
A stifled scream rips from her throat.
