He presses one last kiss against me. Open-mouthed. Unhurried. Then his teeth sink into the soft flesh of my inner thigh. Not a playful nip. A brand. I gasp, half pain, half shock, and his hand comes up to cup my face, thumb stroking my cheek while his teeth hold. When he releases me, I can already feel the bruise forming. "So you remember," he says quietly. "So you feel me tomorrow when I'm not there." I should be horrified. I reach down and press my fingers against the mark.
Then he drags himself up my body, chest pressed to mine, his weight settling over me as he looks down at my face. His eyesare black. He presses his lips to mine and kisses me. Hard and wanting.
Then he reaches between us, still kissing me. One hand captures both my wrists, pinning them above my head. The blunt press of him finds me, and my breath stops. He pushes in, slow, just the tip, just enough to make every nerve ending I have scream for more. My mouth falls open. My fingers flex uselessly against his grip.
"Look at me."
My eyes find his.
He sinks in another inch. Devastating. Giving me every inch of him one agonizing moment at a time, watching my face absorb each one. Then he thrusts into me all at once, filling me until I can't breathe.
"Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks as he pulls out slowly, then snaps his hips forward again. "Like a fucking vice."
"Salvatore," I moan, adjusting to take all of him inside me.
"More," I start to say, but he doesn't let me finish.
He drives into me again so hard a scream tears from my throat, loud enough that I'm embarrassed his staff might hear. He pulls back and slams forward again. Deep, punishing, all of him, like something snapped loose inside him the moment he bottomed out and there's no getting it back. Both palms slam flat against the headboard for leverage.
Then he moves.
Hard. Fast. Every thrust shoves me up the mattress, his hips snapping with a relentless rhythm that knocks the air from my lungs in short, helpless bursts. The headboard cracks against the wall. Once. Again. Again.
His forehead drops to mine, breath hot against my lips. "Call me daddy," he growls, voice rough and demanding. "Say it."
"Okay… daddy." The word barely escapes before he drives deeper, and my breath breaks completely.
"Every night." The confession rips from him between thrusts, jaw clenched tight, like the words have been caged behind his teeth for months. "Every fucking night I've wanted to ruin you." His fingers dig into my hips as he drives even deeper. "Now that I finally have this tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, your perfect body beneath me—" His voice breaks on a groan. "I don't know how the fuck I'm ever going to stop."
“Salvatore,”
"What did I tell you to call me?" He slows his pace to a torturous crawl.
My breath hitches. Waiting. Anticipating. Every nerve ending screaming for the drag of his cock, ready to feel him in places I didn't know existed.
His hand slides beneath my lower back, tilting my hips up as he buries himself to the hilt. A scream tears from my throat at the impact.
"Oh… fuck, I can't—"
Then he pulls out almost completely and slams into me so hard my body collapses.
"Daddy!" I scream, fingers clawing at the sheets as my vision whites out. He's huge—the burn of him almost too much—and I'm trembling, caught between pain and pleasure.
I'm gritting my teeth and biting my lips, trying and failing to keep the noise down.
"You said you wanted me to fuck you, right, baby?" He doesn't slow down, doesn't give me a second to recover. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No, please don't stop," I beg foolishly. My body has never felt so ravaged, so taken, so ruined.
"Then tell me to fuck you harder. Beg me."
My breath catches. "Fuck me harder, daddy… please."
He obliges immediately, the impact making me see stars. "Valentina, I want to ruin you. I want to make you mine. All of you."
"You already have," is all I manage, but he laughs—dark and possessive.
"No I haven't, baby. Not even close."
