“As you wish, my lady.”
A laugh escaped her. “Did you just quote The Princess Bride while I’m trying to seduce you?”
“You never have to try, Amara,” he murmured, tracing her lips with his fingers before laying back, linking his arms behind his head. “In my defense, you did make me watch that movie twice.”
“You liked it,” Amara pointed out.
“I loved it,” he said, his gaze surprisingly sober on hers. “I believe in true love, and I believe in waiting for it. Would you have waited, Amara? If it had been you in the movie, would you have waited on a promise, not knowing why or when or how?”
She knew they weren’t talking about the movie anymore. She climbed over him, straddling his waist, his erection pressing right into her core.
“Is my true love trying to find me, be with me, in the movie?” she asked, her heart pounding as she unzipped him, feeling his cock in her hands for the first time.
She saw his abs flex at her touch, but he stayed still, watching her. “Every single day.”
Her heart stuttered. She couldn’t keep her walls up against him, not when he said shit like that and actually meant it.
Ignoring how his word affected her, she wrapped her fingers around him, or tried to, the feel of him soft but hard, heavy, in her palm. With her other hand, she pat one of his pant pockets, taking out his leather wallet, hoping there was a condom in it.
There was. Taking it out, she squirmed back, ripping it open with her teeth, and finally looking down at his cock, the first cock she had actually seen outside of porn.
It was big. Big. Fuck.
Panic started to seep into the edges. She couldn’t take it in. She wouldn’t be able to take it in. It would hurt.
God, it couldn’t hurt.
Her hand trembled, and she felt him take the condom from her, rolling it over his erection in a smooth motion.
That cleared some of the haze of her panic. She wasn’t doing this with some random stranger who would push into her without any thought or possibly hurt her. This was Dante. The man who had picked up her body when it had been at its most broken and held her soul when she had thought it beyond repair, giving her gold to fill her cracks every day for three years. He was the most dangerous man that she knew, but also the noblest in a way. She knew he would never she was at her safest when she was with him. And if she told him to stop, he would stop.
Taking a deep breath in, she looked into his eyes, opening her legs wider, feeling his tip touch her nether lips.
“I would wait for you for an eternity, Dante Maroni,” she whispered to him, slowly lowering herself on his erection, feeling her walls stretch to accommodate his thickness. A breath whooshed out of her and she pulled her dress off, exposing every inch of her body to his hungry gaze. “But that eternity would be spent alone, wouldn’t it?”
His hands came up to cup her breasts, squeezing them hard and she sank an inch deeper on him, trying to rotate her hips to lessen the burn. He pulled her forward so she leaned down, her nipples brushing over his chest, as his hands slid into her hair, his jaw clenched, his eyes fierce on hers.
“One day, I’m going to put my ring on that finger, Amara,” he grit out, pushing up another inch into her. “One day, I’m going to put my babies inside you. Just wait for me, baby. Please wait for me.”
Amara felt her breath hitch, her heart stuttering as she finally sank all the way down on his length, feeling full but not invaded, her eyes holding his gaze. “What about-” she asked him, her voice soft, squirming as he throbbed inside her. “-you being Dante Maroni. One day, you’ll have to find yourself a mafia princess and put your ring on her and your babies inside her.” God, just the thought of that hurt. She already hated his future wife. “Remember what you said? We’re not a love story. We’re a tragedy waiting to happen.”
Suddenly, she was on her back as he loomed over her, pushing inside her deeper than she’d thought possible, his mouth a fraction away from hers. “Then, let’s make it a good one.”
He placed her knees over his elbows, opening her wider as he pulled out of her, leaning back completely. Amara felt herself moan as her walls clenched, empty of him, wanting him back, and within a second, he thrust back in. The power of his thrust pushed her up on the bed, her breasts bouncing, and he leaned down, taking one of her nipples into her mouth. The suction sent a shot of pleasure to her core, making her muscles squeeze around him, her hands gripping her sheets beside her.
This felt like nothing she could have imagined, nothing from her nightmares.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he said on another hard thrust, his teeth tugging on her nipple, his thumb settling on her clit, rubbing between her legs. “So tight and wet and mine. This pussy has been mine, hasn’t it Amara?”
She was getting mindless with pleasure, her neck straining to the side as she tried to hold back the wave from crashing into her.
“Let go, baby,” she heard him whisper into her ear, her legs completely pressing back as he leaned over her, licking her neck, his chest rubbing against her nipples in friction that sent heat spiraling through her.
“Come for me, Amara.”
Thrust. Rub. Lick.
“Grip my cock with your pussy.”
Thrust. Rub. Nip.
“Feel that?”
Thrust. Rub. Bite.
“You dirty girl, so wet for me.”
Thrust. Rub. Lick.
“You’re making a puddle on the sheets.”
And she came.
Like a rocket that shot up into the sky and splintered apart in a million pieces of fire and smoke, evaporating into nothingness in seconds. She came so, so hard her teeth punctured her lips, a strangled cry leaving her throat, her body jerking in his arms as he held her down, still moving inside her, still fucking her like she was his dirty girl and her pussy his to plunder.
“Look at me,” he grit out, pushing his hands into her hair, gripping her head to keep it still as she slowly came down to the ground.
“You” thrust “are” thrust “mine”.
With that he picked up the pace, hammering his hips against her, his pelvis pushing her clit on every downward motion, his eyes, those beautiful, dark eyes, steady on hers, seeing her completely laid bare and naked and vulnerable and open in every way that she could be. He saw it and he took it, and she gave and gave and gave, the intimacy of their bodies, their gazes, their hearts all connecting in one tandem until she didn’t know where she ended and where he began. That look in his eyes – pure unadulterated desire for everything – pushed her over the edge again.
She felt him jerk inside her, his growl rough as he came, his cock pushing as deep into her as it could go, making her walls weep around him.
Their bodies came down from the high of their orgasm slowly, sweaty, and spent. He got up and went to the bathroom, and she just lay there unmoving, staring at the ceiling, waiting for her heart to gradually calm down.
The feel of something wet between her legs had her looking down, to see him cleaning her with a wet towel, and she felt her heart squeeze in her chest. Why did he have to be so perfect for her?
He threw the towel to the side, stripping out of his clothes, exposing his entire body to her eyes for the first time up close.
Amara watched the muscles and ridges on his body – the broad shoulders she’d held on to multiple times as he carried her, the strong arms that made her feel the safest she’d ever felt, the beautiful chest she wanted to use as a pillow for the rest of her life. She watched him – from his big, beautiful feet to his muscled thighs, to his semi-hard cock, to his happy trail, to his abs, to his pecs, to his neck, and finally, to his eyes.