Page 50 of His to Break

I groan in response.

“Watch, principessa. Watch as your pussy swallows my cock.”

I drop my head and look down at where our bodies are joined. The intense eroticism of seeing him sliding in and out of me is enough to trigger an orgasm. My lips twist as my body shakes. Leo doesn’t slow down. He swivels his hips as he drives his cock deep, causing the most delicious friction.

“Leo! Leo! Leo!” I chant as he sinks his teeth into my breasts, leaving his mark on me.

He’s wild and untamed, and he does exactly what he set out to do. He imprints himself so indelibly on me I know I could never belong to anyone but him. Another ripple of ecstasy swells inside me as Leo’s thrusts become more erratic. He throws his head back and barks out his release at the same moment I reach my climax.

My body quivers and I yank at my restraints, desperate to grab onto Leo, to anchor myself. A loud crack splits the air and the hook my arms are tethered to comes away from the wall. Leo’s eyes widen in shock as I fall. He does his best to save me, but we’re both wet from the shower and he can’t get a grip. Together, we drop to the floor.

We lie there for a second or two, legs entangled. Neither of us speaks. Then the absurdity of the situation hits me and I collapse into a fit of giggles. Leo unties my wrists and pulls me into his arms.

“Are you okay, principessa?”

I breathe in and out slowly and manage to stop laughing. “Yes.”

“You’re sure?” Leo looks over me with concern. My butt is probably bruised, but that’s nothing new since I met him.

“Better than the wall is.” I look up to where there’s now a gaping hole in the tile. “I can’t believe we broke the bathroom.”

“The bathroom can be fixed. I’m worried about you.”

I’m touched by the sincerity in his voice. “I’m fine, Leo.” I grin as he trails his fingers over my shoulder in a lazy caress. “Just imagine if that’s how we made a baby.”

“Oh, shit.” His gaze drops to my stomach. “You could be pregnant. I need to be more careful.”

“For fuck’s sake, Leo.” I struggle to my feet. “I’m not pregnant and even if I was, there’d be no need to treat me like a delicate little doll.”

“No?”

“No. Now take me to bed and let’s see if we can break that as well.”

Leo springs to his feet with the agility of an Olympic gymnast. It’s impressive for a man of his build. He switches off the shower and sweeps me up into his arms. Challenge accepted, he carries me to bed.

CHAPTER 20

Vinnie

As I watch my gorgeous husband helping a white-haired woman to rescue her grandson’s balloon from a tree, I can’t believe how relaxed he is today. Leo tends to radiate tension, even when he’s in a relatively playful mood. I thought he’d be out of his element here, with kids running about and animals screeching, but he seems to be enjoying the zoo as much as I am. When he got moon-eyed over a baby gorilla, my ovaries just about exploded.

After retrieving the balloon and successfully stopping a three-year-old from bawling his eyes out, Leo saunters over to the bench where I sat to watch the show. He has the most insanely desirable body and his jeans look like they were spray-painted onto his perfectly toned ass. When he was reaching up into the tree, his thigh muscles tightened and I swear my panties got soaked right through.

“My hero!” Leaping to my feet, I fling my arms around his neck and plant a wet kiss on his lips.

“It’s not every day someone calls me that,” he says as he carefully extricates himself from my embrace. I guess he’s not relaxed enough for public affection. “So, what do you want to see next?”

We’ve already walked around most of the exhibits I was interested in. We lingered for almost twenty minutes to watch the small-clawed otters playing, and I definitely want to go see them again. My stomach, however, has different ideas. It rumbles loudly, reminding me it’s been a couple of hours since we grabbed coffee and a bagel for breakfast.

“Food,” I say decisively.

Leo nods. “You want to head out and find a restaurant?”

“No, I want to eat here. I’m not done with the zoo yet.”

He looks uncertain. “They won’t have anything fancy.”

Obviously, he thinks I’m too fancy to eat from a stall or at one of the little cafés they have dotted around this place. It’s my accent that does it, I suppose. Thanks to the elocution lessons forced on me by my father, I sound like I was born with a silver spoon rammed up my butt. I mean, I can’t deny I’ve enjoyed a life of privilege, even if it has been behind the bars of a gilded cage. But knowing which knife to use for a fish course doesn’t mean I’m too much of a snob to eat a hotdog or whatever.

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