Page 67 of Accidental Alliance

He sucks hard through the fabric, teeth grazing my nipple until I arch with a sharp gasp.

My back arches. “Elio!”

“Mine,” he growls against my chest, the word dark and possessive. “You have always been mine. Even when I was too fucking stupid to keep you.”

His hands work my jeans apart, yanking them down my legs along with my panties in one rough motion.

The sound of them hitting the floor is the only warning I get before he moves off the cot and drops down to his knees on the stone floor. I push myself up onto my elbows to look at him, finding his broad shoulders spreading my thighs wide.

I gasp when he buries his face between my legs. “Oh!”

The first stroke of his tongue up the length of my folds rips a choked cry from my throat.

He licks me until my hips arch off the cot, moving his tongue in deep strokes through my folds, circling my clit with ruthless precision, then thrusting inside me like he wants to devour every drop of my arousal.

My hands fist in his thick black hair, hips rocking desperately against his mouth as pleasure coils tight and vicious. Eight years of forced denial have made every sensation that much more devastating.

He groans against me. “Still so fucking sweet. Still so wet for me. No one else has ever had this, have they?”

I can’t answer. I can only moan as he sucks my clit between his lips and slides two thick fingers deep inside me, curling them against that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.

I come hard, biting my lip to keep from screaming his name as my body shudders violently with waves of pleasure that crash through me.

Elio rises, dragging that tongue along his lips to lap up my arousal. His eyes are black with lust and something far more dangerous that sends a chill rushing up my spine, possession bordering on obsession.

He frees himself from his pants, his thick cock bouncing slightly. The head is already glistening. He is bigger than I remember.

After planting one knee down onto the cot, he grabs my hips and angles himself against me. The head of his cock brushes against my aching hole, lining it up before thrusting into me in one deep, punishing move.

The stretch burns in the most exquisite way. I gasp and dig my nails into the sheet under me. He fills me until our hips are pressed flush against mine. For a moment he stills and lets me breathe. His dark eyes watch me, taking in the slightly twitches in my expression.

Then he starts to move.

There is nothing slow or tender about this. It is raw and desperate, filled with years of grief, betrayal and starvation that is then poured into every brutal thrust he punishes me with. The cot creaks beneath us, our skin slapping against each other.

His hands grip my hips hard enough to leave marks and I meet him thrust for thrust, my legs locking around his waist to take everything he gives and demanding more on top of it.

“Fuck, Isabella,” he groans. “You feel exactly the same. So fucking tight and perfect.”

I hate how good this feels. I hate how my body still recognizes him as what I have always wanted and can never have. Even while rage and grief tear through me, pleasure builds again, even more exquisite than the last time.

He angles his hips, hitting that spot inside me with every stroke, one hand sliding between us to circle my clit. “Come for me again. Let me feel you fall apart on my cock like you used to.”

The orgasm rips through me with violent intensity, my inner walls clenching around him so tightly he curses.

He follows me over the edge with a guttural groan, burying himself deep as he spills inside me, hot pulses that mark me from the inside as his all over again.

I collapse back onto the cot and pant at the ceiling. He hovers over me for a few seconds before slowly leaning forward.

His forehead rests against mine, his dark eyes searching my face with something I can’t even begin to name. For one fragile moment, the walls around my heart begin to crack.

Should I…?

Reality crashes back the moment my eyes dart away from his and I recognize the stone walls surrounding me.

I am in a prison created by the man currently buried inside me.

My son is being kept from me and the only one capable of bringing him back is the same one who abandoned me when I needed him most.