When he releases it, he lifts his head and locks his gaze on mine.
he intensity there strips me bare—possession, hunger, and something softer, something that looks dangerously like devotion.
My chest tightens.This is the man who stole me, who forced my hand in marriage, who still holds my family’s future in his grasp.
Yet right now he is also the man who prepared an art room for me, who showed me the nursery with quiet hope in his gaze, who fought for me at the altar.
The contradiction crashes through me, emotional and physical at once, and fresh wetness floods between my legs.
He feels it.
His cock jerks against my clit, and a low growl vibrates through his chest.
Shifting, he aligns the massive head at my entrance.“Are you ready for me?”
“Yes.”The word is a hiss, a plea.
And since I’m wet, he enters me, pushing in a single, long, relentless stroke until he’s seated to the hilt.
Whimpering, I wiggle around, trying to adjust to his girth.
The stretch burns beautifully, filling me completely.
God help me.I can’t do this.
“Moretti.”I moan, the sound raw.
“Take every bit of me.”He stills, letting me feel every inch, every throb.
Then, slowly, he draws his hips draw back to surge forward again, setting a deep, measured rhythm that drags across that perfect spot inside me with every thrust.
Pleasure coils tighter, spiraling up from where we’re joined, spreading through my belly, my breasts, my fingertips.
“Wrap your legs around my waist.”
I’m not sure I have the strength to do that, but he guides me into position.
“That’s it.Now dig in your heels.”
The man is a fiend.
Once he has me even more vulnerable, he gives it to me—harder, faster, the slap of skin on skin filling the room alongside my broken gasps and his low, ragged breaths.
He eases a hand between us, finding my clit and circling in tight, slick strokes that match the pace of his cock.
The dual sensation is overwhelming.
My orgasm builds fast, ruthless, and I chase it, instinctively lifting myself to meet every thrust.
“My woman.”He gaze never leaves my face.
His eyes are dark and fierce, and he drinks in every flicker of pleasure across my face.
“That’s it.Come for me, Valentina.Fucking come.Now.”
His guttural demand shoves me over the edge.
I shatter, the climax ripping through me in pulsing waves, my walls clamping down around him, milking him as I cry out, body bowing off the mattress.
