Page 204 of Reign

He starts moving again.

Slow, deliberate rolls of his hips that drag his cock over that devastating spot inside me with every stroke. His hand stays firm, adding steady pressure from the outside, and the sensation sharpens instantly.

“Luciano,” I moan, the sound breaking apart when he pushes deeper.

“That’s it. Let it build.”

I shake my head. “It’s too much.”

“I know.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

His voice doesn’t leave room for panic.

He keeps that maddening rhythm, stroking that spot over and over. The feeling grows impossibly intense. Too much pressure and pleasure braided together until I can’t separate them anymore.

I pull hard against the restraints. Every breath comes out as a whimper or a sob.

“I can’t. I’m going to—”

“Yes, you are.” His voice drops lower, darker. “Come for me, pretty girl. Let go. Soak the sheets. Show me how good you can be when you stop hiding.”

The orgasm crashes through me, sharp and violent.

Different.

Luciano drives in deep and holds there for one blinding second before shifting into short, rough thrusts forcing me to feel every second of what my body does around him.

A hot, wet rush pulses out of me around his cock, soaking the sheets beneath us, leaving me crying out so loudly I don’t recognize my own voice.

Relief tears through me with the pleasure.

Too much relief.

Too much everything.

My vision blurs white at the edges, and my body shakes against the silk until I can’t tell if I’m trying to get away from him or closer to him.

Luciano groans. Deep. Almost feral.

His eyes drop between us, and the look on his face should embarrass me more.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Look at you.”

Then his control finally snaps.

He thrusts once, twice, three times—hard, deep, desperate—and a rough, choked sound rips out of his throat as he comes. It’s filthy and beautiful, completely wrecked, like I’ve ruined him the same way he ruined me. I feel every thick pulse of him emptying inside me, hot and deep, while his hand stays locked on my stomach like he’s trying to keep us both from falling apart.

I can still feel him throbbing when the intensity finally starts to ebb. I’m shaking so hard my teeth almost chatter. My body feels loose and overused and impossibly sensitive. I blink up at the ceiling, dazed, then somehow manage to look down.

My release glistens across his lower stomach, just above his waistband.

I’m so annoyed that this man somehow still looks devastating while I’m a trembling, dripping mess that I almost want to laugh. Or cry. Or both.

“I…” My voice comes out small. Wrecked. “I squirted.”