Page 118 of Stolen Vows

“Explicit details,” I confirm, flicking the barbell again.

His laugh is rough and strained. “I’ll give you whatever you want, wife. Anything, everything.”

My breath catches at his words, desire thrumming through my veins. I release him, my hands going to his waistband, shoving his over his ass. “I want you inside of me.”

He growls, low in his throat, and surges down to capture my mouth in a searing kiss. His lips are demanding, his tongue plundering, claiming me so thoroughly it steals my breath.

I moan into the kiss, my nails digging into his shoulders as he kicks off his sweatpants. He settles between my parted thighs, the hard length of him pressing against my opening. The cool metal of his piercing drags along my slick folds.

“Condom. I need a condom,” he rasps against my lips, his hips rocking slightly, teasing me with shallow thrusts that make my toes curl.

“I’m on the pill,” I manage breathlessly. “And I’ve been tested recently.” I don’t tell him it was a mandatory testing ordered by my mother to make sure I wasn’t pregnant and about to ruin the Ashburn-Baldini merger.

He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “Are you sure, Francesca?”

The use of my full name, spoken like a reverent prayer, sends a shiver down my spine. I nod, my fingers curling around his biceps. “I’m sure. I want to feel all of you.”

He exhales a shaky breath, his forehead dropping to rest against mine for a moment. “I’m sorry, I—I don’t have a recent test. It’s been years since I’ve been with anyone, but I was careful. And I?—”

“I trust you,” I murmur, cutting off his uncharacteristic ramble.

His eyes darken at my words, something fierce and possessive flashing in their depths. “Fuck, Francesca,” he growls, his voice rough with emotion. “The way you trust me, it’severything.”

His words wrap around me, sinking into my skin and settling deep in my bones. Trust. It’s such a small word for the magnitude of what I’m giving him. What I’m placing in his hands, his care.

My heart, my body, my pleasure. All of it, his.

It should terrify me. Letting myself be this vulnerable, this open with someone. Especially after everything with Giovanni and my family. But it doesn't. Because this is Graham. Myhusband. The man who makes me feel cherished and protected and seen in a way no one else ever has.

I slide my hands up his chest and loop them around his neck, tugging him down to me. “I’m yours, Graham,” I whisper against his lips. “Take what’s yours.”

A low, feral sound of pleasure rumbles from his chest as he grips my hips, holding me in place as he lines himself up at my entrance. His gaze locks onto mine, dark and intense, as he slowly pushes inside me.

My breath catches at the stretch, the feeling of being filled so completely. He’s big, thicker than anything I’ve taken before, and the metal of his piercing adds an extra layer of sensation that has my toes curling. He pushes in slowly, inch by delicious inch, giving me time to adjust to his size.

When he’s fully seated inside me, he stills, his hips flush against mine. His eyes search my face, looking for any sign of discomfort. “Okay?” he asks roughly, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back.

I nod quickly, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “Yes. God, yes. You feel so good.”

He feels perfect inside me, stretching me in the most delicious way. I experimentally clench around him and we both groan at the sensation.

“Fuck, Francesca. You’re so tight. So perfect.” His voice is a low growl, barely restrained desire and need threaded through every word.

I arch my hips, silently urging him to move. “Please, Graham. I need you to move.”

He leans down, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss as he starts to thrust. Slowly at first, almost torturously so, like he’s savoring every inch of me. But it’s not enough. I need more.

I break the kiss with a gasp. “More.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face and then he’s stretching my legs up, using his grip on the back of my thighs to press them toward my chest.

“Hold yourself open for me.”

I replace his grip with mine, holding my legs wide and opening myself up to him. I feel exposed like this, and it turns me on.

“Fuck me,” he grunts, picking up his intensity with these slow, hard languid thrusts.

His cock hits that magic place inside of me with every rock of his hips, and it’s all I can do to hold onto my legs and stay present.

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