Slow. Careful. Rolling my hips in a way that makes her gasp, makes her arch, makes her clutch my shoulders.
I groan against her throat. “God, you feel like everything.”
“Don’t stop.”
“Never.”
I set a rhythm. Deep and steady. Watching her face.
The tension builds. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper. She’s so wet I can hear every thrust. So tight I have to grit my teeth against the edge.
“Feel me.” I grind my hips against hers. “Feel what you do to me.”
She tangles a fist in my hair. “I feel you. I’ve always felt you.”
I kiss her. Deep and endless. My hips roll against hers, grinding against her clit with every stroke. She whimpers and I drink her in.
I reach between us. Find her clit with my thumb. Circle it while I thrust.
She tightens around me. I can feel it building, how she flutters, how her body pulls at mine.
“Dante.”
“Let go.” I hold her gaze. “With me. Now.”
She breaks.
Her back bows off the mattress, her body pulling me deeper with every pulse. My name spills from her like a prayer.
And I follow her over.
Bury myself to the hilt. Spill inside her with a noise that is surrender.
Because it is.
“Tesoro.”The word escapes against her throat. Involuntary. Mine.
We stay tangled together.
That’s new. Every other time, one of us created distance. Not tonight.
She’s draped across my chest, tracing patterns on my skin. My arm holds her close even though she’s not trying to leave.
“Someone in this house is a traitor,” she says after a while. Steady again. “Someone with access to two million dollars.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to find them.”
My arm tightens. “We’re going to find them. Together.”
She’s quiet. Then, softer: “I think I already know where to start looking.”
I go still. “Tell me.”
“Tomorrow.” She presses her palm over my heart. “I have to be certain first. But I’m close.”
I should press. Should demand answers.
