Page 59 of His to Destroy

“Easy,” he murmurs, voice dark and soothing. “Let me take care of you.”

He teases me, circling, rubbing, until I’m panting into his neck, my body trembling with need. Then he slides one thick finger into me, slow and careful, making me cry out at the sudden stretch.

He works me open gently, curling his finger just right, dragging against that spot inside me that makes my vision go blurry.

“Oh my God—Gaspare—” I sob against his shoulder.

“That’s it, angel,” he whispers. “Let me hear you.”

He adds a second finger, stretching me wider, thrusting deep and slow, his thumb pressing against my clit in perfect counter-rhythm.

My body is shaking now, every nerve ending lit up, every breath a broken moan.

The pleasure builds fast, tight and overwhelming, a tidal wave cresting higher and higher.

“Come for me, Almeria,” he growls into my ear, his voice wrecked with need. “Give it to me.”

With a choked sob, I shatter around him, clenching down on his fingers, my entire body locking up as the orgasm tears through me.

I ride it out on his lap, gasping, trembling, my head thrown back, fingers clutching his hair like a lifeline.

He doesn’t stop until I’ve wrung every last shuddering wave from my body, until I sag boneless against him, spent and trembling.

He withdraws his fingers slowly, carefully, and presses a kiss to my temple.

I’m still trying to catch my breath when he cups my face and tilts my head up to meet his gaze.

The look in his eyes floors me.

Possessive. Tender. Worshipful.

He leans in, his lips brushing mine as he whispers:

“No more tears, angel. From now on, the only tears you’re ever going to shed… are ones of joy and pleasure.”

My heart breaks open at the fierce promise in his voice.

And for the first time in years, I believe it might be possible.

Maybe not today.

Maybe not tomorrow.

But someday soon… I won’t just survive.

I’ll live.

Chapter 15 – Gaspare

The past has a way of bleeding into the present, no matter how tightly you try to stitch it closed.

Speaking with Almeria made me realize my feelings weren’t displaced. I wasn’t pouring water on a rock.

But how could she look at me and allow her feelings take charge knowing I indirectly caused her one of the most painful and heartbreaking experiences of her life?

And that’s why I’ve decided to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

I have my suspects. Someone from the Lombardi syndicate must top the chart. It has to be why they’ve been causing her to run for years. They probably thought hurting her would hit the Spadafora family hard, but they thought wrong.

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