His release is just as powerful, a hot, flooding warmth that fills me, a visceral claim that seeps into my very bones.
He roars my name, a raw, primal sound that echoes through the room, through my very soul as he continues to thrust into me, prolonging my orgasm, drawing out my pleasure until I am a limp, boneless, trembling mess.
I have no idea how long it lasts.
Seconds. Minutes.
I have lost all sense of time. All sense of self.
He collapses on top of me, his body heavy and hot and slick with sweat, a welcome weight that grounds me, that keeps me from floating away into the void.
Our hearts are beating a wild, frantic rhythm against our ribs in beautiful harmony.
The only sound is our ragged breathing, the frantic thumping of our hearts, and the soft, wet sounds of our bodies still joined.
I have never felt so... complete.
So at peace.
So... at home.
And that is a terrifying thought.
I try to push it away, to bury it beneath the lingering afterglow, but it lingers, a persistent, nagging whisper in the back of my mind.
This was supposed to be just a fuck.
A way to scratch an itch.
To get him out of my system.
But it wasn't.
It was so much more.
It was everything.
Mario lifts his head and looks down at me, his dark eyes soft and searching.
He brushes a stray strand of hair from my forehead, his touch gentle, almost reverent.
"You are a dangerous woman, Victoria," he says, his voice a low, husky murmur. "Very dangerous."
My lips curve into a slow, sated smile. "You're one to talk."
He laughs, a low, rumbling sound that I feel deep in my chest.
He is still inside me, and I'm content to stay that way as long as possible.
I can't remember the last time I joked around in bed like this. Can't remember the last time I felt so light, so... free.
This man is dangerous.
He is a drug, and I am already addicted.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss.
It's not a kiss of passion.
