He released my wrist, then wrapped his fingers around my throat and pressed me back onto the bed, following me down, never breaking eye contact, one knee sliding between my thighs.
My entire body responded as he forced my legs apart, my cunt soaked, my aching breasts heavy as he dropped his head and sucked one of my tender nipples into his mouth, lashing back and forth with his tongue.
This was… this was…
I thrashed, seeking more friction, my empty core clenching, a needy yearning spreading through me. My whole body was made of melting butter and agonizing need, my belly filled with butterflies, nails digging into his arm.
“Please, Dante. Just…please.”
I didn’t know what I was asking for, only that this scalding, electric heat spreading through me was going to burn me alive if he didn’t do something to ease my wanting. To fill up the emptiness eating away at me.
“The things I’ve dreamed of doing to you…” He licked his lips, eyes morphing from cerulean to deep lapis. “There is not enough time in all of eternity for me to do all the wicked, depraved things I plan to do to you, Emberline. Sei mia, moglie, and it’s too late for you to escape me now.”
He was all teeth and tongue, probing fingers and hard, calloused hands kneading soft, pliable flesh, every inch of me pinned down by the weight of his immense body. I was trapped, possessed, and claimed, and I fucking loved this, the way our skin rubbed together, the wild thumping of our heartbeats filling the room.
My body was going haywire, his heat—his scent—winding through me like a drug, something ancient and not entirely civilized rising to the surface.
I wanted my husband to fill me up.
I wanted him pounding between my legs, groaning out my name and…
“Fuck.Fuck.”
He was between my legs, pushing them apart, making little growling noises that didn’t sound remotely vampire before he put his mouth on me and began to feast. Fast and hard and hungry, he licked me deep while I writhed beneath the onslaught, head going blank until he pusheda finger inside, my hips bucking up to accept the intrusion.
“That’s it, such a good girl, so ready for me,” he praised, lapping at me between every word. “You need to be wetter, Ember, wet enough to take me, wet enough I don’t hurt you. I can’t hurt you, I can’t. You have to be ready.”
A fast, brutal orgasm shimmered, then burst through me, my body arching up off the bed, his mouth never leaving my cunt. He added another finger, and I came again, the pressure of his mouth, the delicious fullness of having two long, thick fingers pumping slowly in and out of me, that wonderful stretching sensation flooding me with mind-numbing pleasure.
His name worked up my throat and rang off the walls, hips bucking because I’d lost all control. I wanted more. More.More.I was covered in sweat, putty in his hands, filled with heat and pleasure and a hazy kind of wonder at how easily he brought me to another cresting climax.
His.
I was completely and utterly his.
“There.” He pressed his lips to my cheek, his voice a shock over the roaring in my ears. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, dragging his palms down my trembling legs, petting me, like he was soothing a skittish animal.
Was I okay? Sounded like a trick question right about now.
“I don’t know. I think… yes, I’m okay,” I lay there in a daze, my thoughts shattered, body still consumed by tiny quakes of pleasure. “I want…” I reached out, found his cheek, and traced the shape of his face, eyes burning with heat.
He was so beautiful, I forgot how to breathe, my heart swelling like it was going to explode.
“I want you, Dante Dominico. Make this real, and don’t you dare tell me no.”
The following split-second of silence might have been the longest pause of my entire life.
Then he smiled.
A real, actual smile that sent my heart fluttering, like it had grown wings.
“As if I could ever tell you no,dolce moglie mia.” He planted a kiss at the top of my hipbone, another below my belly button, then one on my breast, right over my heart. Soft. Gentle, almost reverent.
“As if you don’t hold my soul in your hands.” He settled his weight on me and cradled my face, his expression serious. “I don’t want to hurt you, but… I’m not exactly small, Ember. This won’t be easy.”
Then he blushed.
My pit fighter of a husband was… blushing.
