“Breathe,” he murmurs against my ear. “Breathe, Mina. Let me in.”
I make myself relax, and he sinks deeper, inch by devastating inch, until he’s fully sheathed inside me, and I feel impossibly full.
“There.” His voice is strained. “There you are. My Mina.”
He starts to move. Slow at first, giving me time to adjust, but the gentleness doesn’t last. Soon he’s pounding into me, the city lights blurring behind my head.
“Was he like this?” His voice cuts through the haze of pleasure, deceptively calm even as he thrusts into me.
“Who?” I pant.
“The man who fathered your son.”
My nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders.
“Did he fuck you like this?” Cristiano’s hips thrust against mine, driving the breath from my lungs. “Did he pin you against a wall and make you scream?”
“You can’t ask me about this now.”
“Answer me.” He pulls almost all the way out, then slams back in, and I cry out, my nails raking down his shoulders. “Did he make you wet, Mina? Did he make you beg?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I do.” He shifts his grip, hitching my thigh higher, changing the angle so he’s hitting something deep inside me that makes my vision blur. “Did he fill you up like I do? Did he make you feel like this?”
“No.” It comes out broken and wrecked. “No one’s ever—”
I stop myself, biting down on my lip so hard I taste copper.
There’s been no one. There’s only ever been you.
The truth is right there, pressing against my teeth, begging to be spoken. I almost confess everything. That I lied about Leon’s age, there is no other man, and that I’ve been keeping his son from him for four years.
But if I tell him that, I’ll lose everything. Tonight is about devastating sex with Cristiano and my foolish choices. Not my son.
So instead, I lie.
“He was gentle,” I gasp, forcing the words out as Cristiano pounds into me. “He was kind. He was honest.”
Cristiano’s rhythm falters. His fingers dig into my thighs, bruising.
“He never—” I’m so close, pleasure and cruelty tangling together on my tongue. “He never tricked me. Never followed me in secret. He made me feelsafe.”
A growl rumbles through his chest.
“He made love to me.” I’m being deliberately vicious now, painting a picture of everything Cristiano will never be. “Slowly. Sweetly. He held me afterward and told me I was precious. He made us pancakes for breakfast.”
Cristiano goes still. Buried to the hilt inside me, his whole body rigid with fury.
For a moment, I think I’ve gone too far. That I’ve broken something between us.
Then his hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back, and his mouth finds my ear.
“I don’t care how gentle he was.” His voice is ferocious. “I don’t care how safe he made you feel. You don’t need gentle and safe, Mina. You need me.”
He pulls back and slams into me so hard the window shudders.
“I’m going to fuck you until you forget he ever existed.”
