Page 54 of Brutal Heir

He pierced me with a glare. “Who’s the only man in your life, Sabrina?”

Resistance rose in my breast.

It was as if I’d burst above the turbulent waters for a last, desperate gasp before drowning. My fight might be futile, but I would still fight.

I tightened my lips as I tossed my head to the side, refusing to look at him.

“Have it your way, dolcezza.”

My insignificant victory was short-lived.

He pounded into me with such fierce violence that I thought he would tear me in two. He even used my body weight against me to drive his cock deeper and deeper inside of me.

At that moment, I ceased to exist. I was only a vessel to be filled by him. I took twisted pleasure in accepting his cock more easily as my inner muscles opened around him.

I actually wanted to hear him call me his good girl again.

This was wrong. So fucking wrong.

He placed open-mouthed kisses along the column of my neck as his thrusts increased in ferocity. His climax was close. I could feel the tension in his shoulders.

A surge of submissive power brought my orgasm to the fore, and I tightened my thighs around his waist.

“You can’t come inside of me.” I breathed heavily as my body absorbed his powerful, rocking thrusts.

He rolled his hips between my legs, stimulating my clit, each time driving in deep. Then he latched onto my breast again, sucking hard.

I shifted my hands from his shoulders to his head, pulling on his hair even as I pushed his head against my chest, practically begging him to bite me again. Somehow craving the pain to take me that final bit over the edge into pleasurable oblivion.

As if reading my mind, his sharp teeth clamped down on my nipple just as he shoved his cock in so deep I could feel his balls slap against the bottom curve of my ass.

I screamed when the most intense orgasm of my life was torn from my body.

He opened his lips then his teeth pulled on my nipple.

It was a painfully erotic vision.

The moment he released it, he kept my gaze and licked his lips. “My turn.”

Oh no.

He wasn’t finished. Not even close.

He unlatched my legs and dropped my feet onto the tiles. My head still spun from my release as he turned me to face the wall. Grasping my hips, he pulled them out until his cock touched my ass.

His thighs brushed the backs of mine as he briefly lowered, and then he thrust to the hilt inside of me.

I opened my palms wide and pressed them against the warm marble as my body rocked forward with the force of his thrusts.

I’d been right.

Sebastian Diamanti didn’t have sex or make love.

He fucked.

“Pull out,” I reminded him. “I’m not on birth control.”

I stopped renewing the prescription when I hit a twelve-month dry spell. That was two years ago.