Page 35 of His to Destroy

“God, Almeria,” he murmurs. “You’re perfect.”

He brings me to the edge with just his hands and mouth, coaxing wave after wave of pleasure until I’m trembling, breathless, my body begging for more.

When he finally pushes inside me, he does it slowly—inch by inch—his eyes locked on mine the whole time.

I gasp. He groans.

The stretch burns at first, but it’s sweet. Full. Right. So different from the first time I was ever touched this way. That night was cold, cruel, brutal. A theft.

This? This is giving. This is choice. This is being worshipped, body and soul.

Gaspare rocks into me with a slow, grinding rhythm that builds a fire low in my belly. He kisses me between every thrust—my jaw, my throat, my lips—as if he needs to keep grounding himself in me.

Our bodies move in sync. Fluid. Sensual. Desperate and tender all at once.

He grips my hip with one hand, the other sliding between us again to rub that aching, sensitive spot with practiced precision.

“Come for me,” he rasps. “I want to feel you.”

My release hits hard.

I cry out, clinging to him, my legs tightening around his waist. My whole body clenches around him, drawing him deeper, and he loses control with a low growl, thrusting harder until he follows me over the edge, spilling into me with a shudder.

We collapse into each other, tangled in sweat and silence. His face presses against my neck, lips grazing my skin as he breathes, calming his body.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither do I. Because right now, we don’t need words.

We only need this moment—the stillness after the storm, the peace that wasn’t stolen, the choice that was finally ours. Mine.

Chapter 10 – Gaspare

Power is a strange thing.

You can hold it in your hands and still not know what to do with it.

I thought I had everything under control. The marriage. The appearances. The carefully curated illusion of stability. Marrying Almeria was supposed to be about strategy—a move to outmaneuver my enemies, to make it known that she was under my protection, thus rendering her untouchable.

And yet, the longer I stand beside her, the more I realize I’m the one who feels vulnerable.

Not because I fear betrayal. Certainly not because I fear weakness.

But because I’m starting to feel something I haven’t felt in years.

Hope.

The event tonight is more than a formality.

It’s a declaration.

Tonight’s event is a gala hosted by one of the most powerful families in the region. Everyone who matters in the syndicate will be there. Businessmen, politicians, enforcers—the ones who operate in shadows, and the ones who pretend they don’t.

It’s the first time Almeria and I will appear in public as husband and wife.We haven’t been out together in public since we got married, except for the few times I showed up at the park or at the grocery stores to remind her that I’m just a call or text away.

I don’t want to portray us as a couple joined just on paper or only in headlines by gossip blogs and every other news outlet that carries the latest from our part of the world.

But together.

We are the Colosimos. The Spadaforas. The joined houses.

---