“You’re hurt,” he muttered against my lips, his voice a rough whisper.
“I’m fine,” I lied, my hands pulling him closer, my body aching for him.
He didn’t argue; his actions spoke louder than words. His hands slid beneath my nightgown, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I gasped as his fingers brushed the sensitive skin of my waist, his touch both gentle and demanding.
I tugged at his sweats, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against mine. He obliged, his movements slow, deliberate, as if savoring every moment. His body was a work of art, lean and muscular, every inch of him a testament to his power and control.
I pulled him down onto the bed, our bodies pressing together, skin on skin. His weight was a comfort, a reassurance that I was safe, that I was his. His hands roamed my body, his touch both reverent and possessive, as if he were claiming me as his own.
“Vittorio,” I moaned, my voice thick with need.
He growled in response, his hands sliding lower, his fingers tracing the curve of my hips. I felt his hardness against me, a promise of what was to come.
But then, he stopped, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He pulled back slightly to look into my eyes. "Sophie," he said, his voice tender despite the desire burning in his gaze. "I need you to know—this isn't just physical for me. What we have... it's more than that."
My heart swelled at his words. "For me, too," I whispered. "This is real, Vittorio. What I feel for you—it's real."
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, but now the question carried deeper meaning—not just about the physical act, but about choosing him, choosing this life, choosing love. I nodded, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
He kissed me again, his mouth devouring mine, his hands moving with a purpose I couldn’t deny. I felt his fingers trace the edge of my panties, his touch sending a jolt of anticipation through me.
“You’re mine,” he whispered against my skin, his voice a possessive growl.
“Yes,” I breathed, my body arching into his touch.
He slid my panties down my legs, his hands moving with a confidence that left me breathless. I felt his fingers trace the wetness between my thighs, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through me.
“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice dark with satisfaction.
I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment and desire. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
He kissed me again, his mouth claiming mine as his fingers slipped inside me, his touch both gentle and insistent. I moaned into his mouth, my body responding to his touch with a hunger that surprised even me.
But then, he stopped, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with restraint.
I reached for him, my hands tracing the length of his hardness. “You won’t,” I promised, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
He hesitated, his eyes searching mine as if looking for a reason to refuse. But then, with a sound of surrender, he gave in completely. His mouth crashed down on mine, his body moving with a purpose I couldn’t deny.
I felt him enter me, slow and steady, his hardness filling me completely. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment.
“Vittorio,” I whispered, my voice a plea.
He kissed me again, his mouth devouring mine as he quickened his pace, his body moving with a rhythm that left me breathless. I felt the tension building inside me, a coil tightening with each thrust, each touch, each whispered word.
“Come for me,” he murmured, his voice a command.
I shook my head, my body on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release. “I want you to—”
He silenced me with a kiss, his mouth claiming mine as he thrust deeper, harder, his body moving with a ferocity that left me reeling.
And then, I shattered. My body convulsed around him, waves of pleasure crashing over me as I cried out his name. He followed soon after, his body stiffening as he buried himself deep within me, his release a primal growl against my skin.
For a moment, we lay tangled together, our breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against my ear.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice soft but certain.
I smiled, my body still trembling from the aftermath of our passion.“And you’re mine.”
