Page 39 of Shattered Engagement

“No time to play,” I force between moans. “Fuck. Me. Now.”

“As you wish,” Stefano says and unzips his pants, unleashing a cock that makes my knees weak.

He pushes my legs wider apart. His dick presses against my slit, testing how wet I am.

“God, yes,” I gasp as he slides deep, filling me with his perfect manhood.

He positions me flat on my back, gripping my wrists over my head. Stefano towers over me, chest chiseled from marble, arms coiled with ropes of muscle. Sweat beads along his collarbone, and I long to lick it. But he’s so far from my reach, so controlled, so concentrated.

Stefano takes possession of me—every inch, every intimate corner.

And I give myself willingly.

He keeps his rhythm slow, teasing. When his cock leaves my pussy, he does it deliberately. I tug against his grip on my wrists, growing restless.

“Stop playing,” I demand.

Stefano doesn’t listen. His kisses become more demanding. His body takes control over mine. His dick teases, and he gives me slow strokes.

But the pleasure is too good. I’m unable to move, and I surrender to every moment of dominance.

With my free hand, I wrap it around the base of his cock, tightening when he thrusts forward, forcing him to move faster. A low sound vibrates his chest, and he responds in kind.

With his free hand, Stefano curls his fingers around my wrist, joining his with my grip around his shaft.

“Beg for me,” he growls, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

My pride screams at me to refuse, but my hunger wins out. “Make me come,” I order, tightening my grip. “Three more minutes to show me what you can do.”

“That’s plenty of time to make you scream my name.”

Stefano takes possession of my mouth as we find our rhythm. Each thrust is better than the last, bringing us closer and closer together. The end is inevitable. We both know it. We’re rushing forward to be claimed by carnal desire.

Stefano thrusts faster. Our tongues explore. Our bodies move as one.

“Harder,” I beg. “Harder!”

His response is a punishing pace. Our breaths mingle as we share the same air, chasing a release we both crave. My eyes stay focused on his. I memorize every inch of his lips, his jaw, his eyes. When he presses his forehead against mine, I feel myself fall.

Stefano growls my name, pressing his lips against my neck as the pleasure crests.

“Yes,” I murmur. “God, yes.” I bite into his shoulder to keep myself from screaming, though that’s what my entire body is begging me to do—to scream his name and let everyone know he’s mine. My Stefano.

Our gazes remain locked as an explosion of sensation breaks through. Then everything vanishes, and only ecstasy remains.

He continues pushing until we’re both satiated. Then he eases himself off my body and collapses beside me, panting and shaking.

I turn and kiss him again, an appreciation. This was exactly what I needed. The escape, the heat, and the possessive desire rolling off him in waves.

“Time’s up,principessa,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Much longer and we’d have been caught.”

The aftershocks of pleasure still ripple through me, but reality begins its inevitable intrusion. “Just a few more days,” I say, hating how the words sound.

His thumb traces my cheekbone, tender and loving. “It will all be worth it,” he promises, understanding what the separation means.

“I should go back,” I whisper against his skin, though every fiber of my being rebels against the idea. “Before someone notices I’m missing.”

His arms tighten around me, a possessive gesture that makes my heart clench. “Five more days,” he echoes, the promise loaded with meaning beyond our revenge plot.

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