She crinkled her nose. “A cat.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “A cat,” he agreed.
“Our home,” she whispered back, sighing happily as those words sank in. Hearing Victor say he loved her had felt amazing, but it occurred to her that hearing him talk about their home and their future was even better.
They stood there for a long moment, lost in each other’s gazes. Belle realized that love didn’t always have to be dramatic to feel monumental. Sometimes it was just this…just the feeling of being exactly where you were meant to be.
Victor moved first, pulling her close, the heat of him settling into her. Belle nuzzled against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding her.
Together, they worked to undress each other, taking their time, kissing each newly bared patch of skin.
All Belle could think as she touched him, kissed him, licked those very lickable muscles of his was,He’s mine.
This sexy, sweet, possessive, protective, romantic man was all hers. Tonight was just the first of many.
When they were naked, Victor led her to the bed. She sat on the edge, intent on climbing in, but he stopped her, sinking to his knees.
“Don’t move,” he commanded, as he pressed her thighs open. Victor made going down on her an artform, and by this point, she was convinced he knew her body better than she did. He definitely knew how to make her come quicker than she could manage on her own, and she had well over a decade of practice behind her.
Belle sat up, watching as he licked her slit, as his tongue teased her clit in that way that made her see stars.
“Victor.” Her fingers closed in his long hair, and he grunted when she pulled it tightly.
Her fingers loosened, but he shook his head. “Keep holding on, Sunshine.”
She didn’t have much choice but to do just that when he lowered his head and sucked her clit into his mouth with a roughness that went through her like an electric shock. Belle wasn’t surprised that Victor fucked like he played hockey—aggressive, determined, and all in.
The first few times they’d slept together, he’d stopped mid-hair pull or whenever his fingers gripped her too tightly, apologizing, while making sure she was okay.
Belle put an end to that quickly, assuring him that she wasn’t made of glass, that she craved his powerful touches. She promised to let him know if anything he did hurt, and if she didn’t say anything, then no apologies were necessary.
He hadn’t apologized since then, because she hadn’t lodged one single complaint. If anything, their passion had grown more heated and even rougher when it became obvious to both of them that she liked her pleasure laced with a hint of pain.
Victor pushed two fingers inside her, thrusting them with enough force that she was helpless to hang on. She fell back on the bed as the dam broke and her orgasm washed away everything in its path. Her back arched and she covered her own mouth, trying to mute her cries of bliss. They were both still cognizant of Pip sleeping down the hallway.
She wouldn’t have thought it would be so hard to come quietly. After all, she’d never screamed in bed prior to Victor. In truth, she’d thought loud wails and screams were myths perpetuated by porn movies. However, keeping quiet with Victor was a real problem.
His fingers continued to stroke her, drawing out her climax even as he lifted his head, his gaze locked on her face. He admitted once that he loved watching her come.
Once the flutters in her pussy started to wane, he pulled his fingers out, sucking her juices off like she was the tastiest treat at the bakery.
“I can’t wait to hear those cries of yours,” he said. “I’m going to make you scream my name every fucking night.”
Victor’s deep voice always came across as menacing, but Belle never felt an ounce of threat. If anything, it only fueled her need for him.
Because here she was, two minutes after coming, and her body was already clamoring for more. She wrapped her hands around his neck, intent on pulling him over her body. When she couldn’t budge him, she added her legs to the mix, trying to drag him down with her ankles crossed at the base of his spine.
Victor, the strong bastard, held firm, impossible to move.
“Victor,” she pouted, not bothering to temper the whine that laced his name.
“Flip over,” he said, one hand on her hip, pushing with enough force to turn her himself.
Once she was on her stomach, Belle attempted to rise, planning to shift to the center of the bed. Victor halted her movement with a quick, hard slap on her bare ass.
“Ow!” she said, dropping to the bed as one of her hands flew back to cover her ass cheek.
Victor wasn’t deterred as he spanked the other cheek just as hard.
