Page 63 of The Beast's Broken Beauty

His lips find that sensitive spot just below my ear, and a moan escapes before I can trap it behind my teeth. His stubble scrapes against my skin—the perfect counterpoint to the softness of his mouth—as he trails kisses down the column of my throat.

"But I didn't..."

His teeth graze my pulse point, and I gasp, my hands clutching his shoulders for support. His tongue soothes the sting, tasting me, claiming me.

"Hmmm, prize?" I manage to whisper, trying to tease despite the fog of desire clouding my mind.

Antonio's hands slide lower, gripping my hips, pulling me firmly against him. The hard length of him presses against my stomach, and the evidence of how much he wants me sends liquid heat pooling between my thighs. His fingers flex, digging into my flesh.

"I'm going to worship every inch of you," he promises, his voice a dark growl that vibrates through my entire body. "I'm going to lick and suck and tease until you're begging for me."

He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his midnight eyes burning with an intensity that steals my breath.

"I've got lotion in every room just in case." His forehead presses against mine, his breath mingling with my own. "Shit... I've researched the ways to make it even better for you. I've emailed doctors around the world trying to find a solution for that pain you sometimes feel. To make sure you don't hurt afterwards."

My heart stutters at his words. He's been thinking about me, about my comfort, about my pleasure. Not just using me for his own satisfaction, but actively seeking ways to make intimacy better for me after what cancer took.

"So that I can fuck you as hard, as deep as possible," he continues, his fingers tangling in my hair, tugging just enough to send sparks of pleasure-pain shooting down my spine.

Heat floods my body, making my skin flush, my nipples tighten painfully against the cotton of my shirt. My breathing becomes shallow, chest heaving as I struggle to draw air into lungs that seem to have forgotten their purpose.

Everything fades away—my father's betrayal, my mother's return from the dead, the looming threat hanging over us all. The world narrows to this moment, to the feeling of Antonio's body against mine, to the hunger in his touch, to the fire consuming us both.

I surrender to it completely, letting it burn away doubt and fear and resistance. Because in this stolen moment, amidst all the tragedy that seems synonymous with our names, there is only us. Only this need that transcends hatred and vengeance and betrayal.

Because I need him, all of him, like I need my next breath. I need to feel his skin against mine, his hands branding every curve and hollow. I need him deep inside me, claiming me, filling me, making me his in the most primal way possible.

For just a heartbeat, he pulls away, reaching for his desk drawer. The loss of contact is physical pain, leaving me coldand empty. When his fingertips find a small tube, relief floods through me.

The ache between my legs is almost unbearable now—a pulsing, throbbing need that only he can satisfy.

"Please," I whisper, the word scraping my throat raw with desperation. "Antonio, please..."

My voice breaks on his name, shattering like everything else between us. But for once, the broken pieces aren't cutting into my skin.

They're forming something new, something unexpected.

Something that feels dangerously like hope.

Chapter thirty-eight

Antonio

Thewayshemoansmy name, like it's a fucking prayer and a curse twisted into one, sets my blood on fire and my cock harder than granite. Her hips grind against me with desperate need, seeking friction, seeking me, and I thrust back with enough force to make the desk groan beneath us. I want her to feel exactly what she does to me. How three months of rage and denial have built into this unstoppable inferno.

Her eyes lock onto mine, unflinching, those amber depths swimming with desire that matches the thunder in my veins. The honeysuckle scent that's haunted my dreams fills every breath I take, making my head spin with want so intense it borders on madness. My hands roam her body with possessive hunger, memorizing every curve, every dip, every scar that maps her survival.

I know our time is limited. Elena could wake from her nightmares at any moment. Our guests could come searching,wondering where we've disappeared to. And with the storm of blood and betrayal circling us, who knows what fresh hell awaits beyond this door? But right now, in this stolen slice of time, she's my sole obsession. Everything else fades to shadow until it's just her—the woman who's tormented my waking hours and dominated my dreams.

I capture her mouth in another bruising kiss, swallowing her gasp as my teeth scrape her bottom lip. She tastes like revenge and redemption, like every dark fantasy I've denied myself while lying awake, my cock throbbing painfully in my hand, her name a curse on my lips.

"Mine," I growl against her throat, biting hard enough to leave marks. She'll wear my claim tomorrow, visible evidence that she belongs to me. The thought sends another surge of heat straight to my groin. "Fucking mine."

I hesitate for a beat, the tube of cream cool against my fevered skin. "I've been researching, trying to find ways to make this better for you. Checking with top oncologists, scouring forums until dawn..." The words feel like surrender on my tongue, an admission of weakness I can't afford. All those sleepless hours spent hunched over my phone, telling myself it was strategic planning, preparedness. What a fucking joke.

The truth rips through me like Henrik's blade—I'd move heaven and earth just to hear her cry out in pleasure instead of pain. To make her feel even a fraction of the bliss she ignites in me.

She cuts off my rambling with a kiss that's not the frantic, desperate clash of before. This one is slower, deeper, her tongue sliding against mine with deliberate purpose, exploring every corner of my mouth like she's trying to consume me from the inside out. Her hand comes up to cup my scarred cheek, thumb brushing over the ridges that map my destruction, andsomething cracks inside me like ice breaking under too much pressure.

---