I start to pant from anticipation. I’m still a little sore, and heis well-endowed, but I just want him in all the way. He senses this from my sharp intake of breath and slides all the way to my hilt with ease.
“Oh G-god,” I splutter.
“We’ve talked about this,” he says, mildly irritated.
“I mean…Fiero,” I gasp.
“That’s better. Now, tell me to fuck you,cucciola.”
My eyes roll back. “Fuck me, Fiero,” I rush out.
Don’t waste another second, I want to say.Fuck me, change me, ruin me. This feels so good I’ll give him anything in this moment.
He withdraws agonizingly slow and I grip my walls around him for punishment. His response is to chuckle darkly then piston into me so hard I nearly headbutt the wall.
“Cazzo,” he murmurs. “Sei il paradiso sulla terra.”Like heaven on earth.
He thrusts into me harder and harder, until it’s taking everything I have just to remain upright. It feels like he’s unleashing his demons onto me, and the low growls behind me only echo that suspicion.
“Fuck,cucciola,” he snarls. “You wereneversupposed to feel this fucking good.”
I’m way too gone to question what he means by that, my hands braced on the wall as he fucks me from behind.
His palms slide down to my hips, gripping them as he pistons into me, long, thick and terrifyingly hard.
A gnarly sound ejects from his throat and I come around his cock. He feels the contractions and punches so deep I feel the ache in my lower stomach. He digs hard, his hips jerking as he unloads into me.
His forehead drops to my spine and we both still, catching our breath.
“Are you on birth control?” he rasps.
“I am now,” I say, breathless. “But we should still… be careful.”
I feel him nod.
“I used to wear condoms all the time. I don’t know why, but with you, I can’t.” Over the fabric of my dress, his fingers squeeze my hips sweetly. “The idea of it just… it doesn’t feel right. Not with you.”
I shiver around him and he presses a hot kiss between my shoulder blades.
“As long as you’re clean,” I whisper, “then I don’t want you to either.”
He kisses me again through the fabric. “I’m clean,cucciola. And I’ll stay that way.”
My lids ping open. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he says, in a deep husky timbre, “I won’t be fuckinganyoneelse. Only you.”
My knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Thankfully, he keeps hold of me when he pulls out, smoothing my dress back down over my hips, then he turns me around.
I open my mouth to speak but his lips come down, hot and needy, taking away my words, my thoughts and my consciousness.
Then he pulls back, rakes his dark eyes over me one more time, then heads back inside.
I stay outside a while longer trying to cool down. But ten minutes pass and I admit defeat. I have a fever—there's no denying it. And apparently, there is no cure.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Fiero
