“I’ve fought long enough, my love.” I palm her throat with my free hand and whisper my lips along her carotid. “You’re my downfall. I accept it, willingly.”
She stills, but this time I swear it’s not in hesitation. It’s absorption. She wants to believe me.
Her hand closes around my wrist at her throat, not stopping, not urging—just holding me there, as if she needs to be more grounded in touch.
“I’ll stop at nothing to protect you.” I slide my fingers down her slit, parting her sex. “To keep you safe.” I tease her entrance, tormenting us both, and the moan she gifts me with is melodic. A symphony of her undoing and mine. “To make you happy.”
Pre-cum beads at the tip of my dick, every inch of me screaming for release beneath layers of clothing that seem sacrilegious. I have to fight not to listen to instinct and yank down my zipper. To not thrust into her so fucking hard and fast neither one of us will quit feeling it for days.
She deserves better.
More than my animalistic indulgence.
This is about her pleasure. About showing her I’d cut myself open before I ever cut corners with her.
I glide two fingers inside her and close my eyes, her moan pure angelic torture.
Her internal muscles clamp around me. She gasps for breath.
“Dio, quanto mi è mancata la tua figa.” I curl my fingers, place my thumb to her clit. “Sto morendo dalla voglia di assaggiarti.”
Her nails claw into my wrist, her other hand grasping my tie. Tugging.
I want her to come.Needto hear more sweet sounds of her pleasure. To feel that my presence in her life is more than pain and suffering.
“You have no idea what you do to me.” I nuzzle below her ear, taste the salt of her skin. “You enter a room and my control ceases to exist.” I add pressure to her carotid. Gentle. Firm. “I’m your slave, Isla. A fucking sinner on his knees at the shrine of your existence.” I increase the pulse of my fingers. Faster. Harder.
Her breathing rasps. Her nails bite. Thighs clench.
“You’re the flaw in me that I refuse to correct,la mia rovina,” I growl against her throat. “There will never be another.”
“Raffael…” Her head falls back against the wall, a fractured sound tearing out of her. She comes undone, pussy fluttering, body trembling.
I pull back, drinking in the masterpiece of her release, those dark lashes fluttering shut, her delicate throat like putty in my palm as her hips grind into my hand.
Nobody else.
There’ll never be anyone who rewires me like this. Who turns my morals into easily disposable obstacles. Who makes mercy feel optional.
For her, I’d welcome the violence I’ve spent my life evading. I’d bury bodies at the bottom of the ocean.
But the elevator slows. Stops.
The jolt of returning reality has her eyes flashing open and her posture jackknifing.
“Steady,” I warn, as the doors open.
Stay with me.
I remove my fingers from her panties and lean back to give her an inch of space.
She releases my tie, her arms falling to her sides, her leg sliding from my hip.
I can’t tell what stares back at me—panic? Heartache? Regret?
But,God, she’s fucking beautiful. The swollen, kiss-bruised lips. The mesmerizing eyes, glassy with lust.
“Mi consacro a te,Isla,” I vow. “Hai il mio cuore. La mia anima. Il mio amore in questa vita e nella prossima.”
