I wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing my body firmly against his arousal. My voice dropped, low and laced with need. “Now make love to me.”
He kissed the side of my neck, slow, wet, lingering, and murmured, “Anything you want, baby.”
His hands moved with unexpected tenderness, undressing me one piece at a time like I was fragile porcelain, something precious he didn’t dare break. Once I was completely bare beneath him, he stood by the bed and slowly stripped off his own clothes.
My breath hitched at the sight of him, his cock swollen and hard, standing proud, thick veins lining the shaft. He climbed onto the bed, starting at my ankles, pressing slow, reverent kisses up the length of my body. Our breaths deepened, anticipation mounting with every touch, every kiss.
After everything we’d been through, we didn’t need much foreplay. His hand slid between my thighs, parting my slick folds with a gentle stroke. With his other hand, he grasped his length, rubbing the tip up and down my slit, coating himself in my arousal.
Then he leaned over me, lined himself up, and began to push in. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving raw scratches down his back as he moved slowly, stretching me inch by aching inch.
Pleasure twisted with pain. He kept going, deeper and deeper, until he bottomed out, hips pressed flush against mine. The weight of him, the heat, the sheer fullness brought tears to my eyes. It had been so long. He had to stretch me all over again.
A long, trembling moan escaped my throat, the feeling of being whole with him again unraveling me from the inside out.
His breath was hot by my ear as he asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m so full… but it feels better than okay,” I whispered, breathless.
He began to move. Slow. Deep. Deliberate. Drawing out every second, every sensation. My moans turned into cries, urging him on. His rhythm shifted, harder, deeper, each thrust shaking something loose inside me. For several relentless minutes, he drove into me, pinning me to the mattress with his weight.
Then he sat up, gripping my hips, sliding one hand down to grab my ankle. He placed my foot flat on his chest, locking eyes with me, his gaze full of hunger, before slamming into me again, this time rougher, feral. He gripped my knee, pushing my leg up and back to thrust even deeper.
I clutched the sheets in both fists as my body bounced with each savage stroke. The bed creaked beneath us, the sound of skin slapping skin and wet, obscene friction filling the room.
My breasts swayed with every movement. My cries mingled with his low, animalistic groans. The pressure in my core built fast, a coil winding harder and harder until I broke.
“I’m coming! Oh God—Carlo!” I loudly moaned, voice shattering. The orgasm hit me like a storm, wave after wave crashing through me as I twisted and arched beneath him, completely wrecked. Carlo held on through it, thrusting twice more, hard, deep, before groaning out my name, his whole body trembling as he came, spilling himself inside me.
He gently lowered my leg back onto the mattress, chest heaving. His eyes lingered on me, dark and heated, then dropped lower, to the creamy trail slipping out of me and onto the sheets. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.
TWENTY-NINE
Emily
The next morning, Carlo took me up the hill behind the house to watch the sunrise. The lake below shimmered faintly, the forest wrapped around it like a soft embrace. The world felt still, bathed in the quiet light of dawn.
My arms were entwined around Carlo’s, my head resting on his shoulder, soaking in his warmth and the comfort that only he could give.
Carlo’s voice broke the silence. “I’ve talked to my lawyer to start the divorce proceedings. Once it’s finalized, you and I can get married.”
I lifted my head, blinking in surprise. “Get married?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. Taking off his leather gloves, he reached out and gently pinched the tip of my nose. “I told you, I’m not letting you go anywhere. Why are you acting surprised?”
My cheeks flushed, warmth bubbling up beneath my skin, but I tried to keep it together. I didn’t want to look too thrilled, not yet. “Well, I didn’t think you’d propose in such a romantic way.”
He placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, his eyes holding mine with that rare, affectionate gleam. “You’re not going to stop until you turn me into a complete softie, huh?”
I laughed and shrugged. He watched me for a long moment, something shifting in his eyes, softer now, more vulnerable. “I love your laughter.”
I leaned in and kissed him gently, letting the moment stretch between us before whispering against his lips, “And I loveyou.”
Carlo stared at me, and for a second, I forgot to breathe. The way he looked at me, like I was his entire world, made my heart feel too full for my chest. After a pause, he stepped back slightly then reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small, sleek black box.
My breath caught. I didn’t need to see what was inside. I already knew.
He opened it slowly, revealing a rose gold diamond ring that shimmered with quiet elegance. My eyes widened as I took it in, stunned by its beauty. I’d never really dreamed of wedding rings or what mine might look like one day, but somehow, this one felt perfect.
