I gasp and roll my head to the side. I’m panting, trying to catch my breath.
A thumb brushes against my lower lip. Fingertips trace my jaw. A hand wraps around my neck. When I open my eyes, Rafaele is above me, his hair disheveled and his eyes pitch-black with lust. He tightens his hand around my throat and presses his lips down on mine.
My own taste floods my senses. I moan into his mouth, rolling my hips against him. My clenched fists dig into my lower back, but I barely register the discomfort.
More, more, more.
He pulls back and stares down at me. There’s no anger left in his face, just lust. I guess he took all of the anger out on my throat earlier. He moves his hand from my neck to my forehead, brushing away the red strand that’s fallen into my eyes.
“If you want me to stop, now would be the time to say it.”
Something sparks inside my chest. I shake my head.
Slowly, he breathes out. “Are you on birth control?”
“Yes.” I snuck out and got an injection, just in case, when Papà was trying to set me up with Ludovico. It should last at least a few more months.
He nods and climbs off me.
I’m expecting him to take off his clothes, but instead he snakes one arm around my waist and flips me to my front. Disappointment wafts through me. This is how he wants to do it?
There’s a cold lick between my wrists, and the zip tie gets tighter before it snaps.
Oh. He freed me.
The knife lands on the carpeted floor with a dull thud.
I roll to my back and stare at him as he takes off his clothes. His deft fingers make quick work of the buttons of his shirt. He pulls his arms out of the sleeves, the muscles in his shoulders and chest flexing with the movement. The pants go next, together with the boxers. My gaze dips to his abs, the V-below, then lower. I swallow. Somehow, he looks even bigger than before.
This might hurt.
He gets on the bed, settles his weight between my legs, wraps one palm around my thigh, hiking it up higher. I run my hands up his muscled chest. He’s burning up. So am I.
His cock presses against my center, and he wraps his fist around it, guiding it where it belongs. He pushes into me slowly, stretching me, hurting me. I choke from the sudden pain and claw at his back until I tear his skin.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe, knowing that I’m making him bleed too.
“Do what you need,” he rasps.
He stops before he’s fully in. Tears sting in the corners of my eyes, and I squeeze them shut so that I don’t cry.
His hand disappears from my thigh and moves to cup my cheek. “Cleo. Tesoro.”
I blink at him, barely seeing him through my blurry vision.
“Stay with me.” He swipes his thumb over my cheekbone. “Breathe through it.”
I do. I focus on taking in air until he leans down to kiss me, and then I focus on the way his mouth fits against mine. He kisses me for a long time. So long that the tightness in my center starts to unravel. So long that I part farther for him. He fills me all the way up, and a moan pours out of him.
It’s so fucking sexy that it makes electricity dance over my skin. He kisses me while he fucks me, tenderly, reverently. Soon, I forget about the pain. It disappears, gets replaced with pleasure. I wrap my legs tighter around him and dig in my heels. He picks up speed and drops his head to suck on my neck.
“You’re squeezing me so tight,” he mutters against my skin. “You feel so fucking good, Cleo. You’re perfect.”
His words set me off. A familiar pressure builds inside of me, ratcheting up with every smooth stroke. He changes the angle of his hips, and it feels even better, more intense. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and then my orgasm is crashing through me.
“Oh fuck,” he growls as I flutter around him. His body grows taut, every muscle prominent and hard. I scrape my nails down his chest and watch his face morph into a grimace. His cock jerks, and he spills inside of me with a guttural groan.
For a while, we stay tangled with each other. I press a kiss to his chest. He brushes his fingers through my hair. I don’t know how much time passes, but it’s enough for him to start softening. Eventually, he lifts himself up on his hands and pulls out with a hiss.
Warm liquid trickles out of me. He stands up, his gaze latching onto my pussy, and he looks at it for a prolonged moment, his chest rising and falling with hard breaths. “I’ll get a towel.”
I sit up and glance down between my legs. There’s a reddish-pink stain on the white sheet. But this one, no one will see.
No one but us.
CHAPTER 30