Page 47 of Salvatore

I cling to his shoulders, the bliss morphing, building.

I try to breathe through it. Long inhales. Slow exhales.

“I’m dying to find out what you sound like when you come.” He grips my chin, delicate in his possession. “Will you moan for me,mi reina? Will you scream?”

I shake my head. I’m not going to do either.

I’m going to keep my mouth shut. My eyes closed. My heart inside the caged walls of my chest. But then his teeth scrape my skin, the abrasive onslaught traveling over the most sensitive part of my neck as he slides another finger inside me and I’m done for.

My pussy clamps down on him, the endorphin rush hitting like a bus.

I cry out, calling his name in a guttural rasp.

“That’s my girl,” he growls in my ear as his thumb enters my mouth and presses down on my tongue.

I clamp my lips around him, moaning against the intrusion, sucking his thumb as if it’s his cock while I come undone over and over, the pleasure so potent my limbs threaten to cramp.

He pulls back, and despite my closed eyes I sense him watching me as I ride the wave, enjoying me enjoying him. It should make me self-conscious. Should wake me up to my idiocy.

But there’s no way to physically deny the bliss he gifts. Not when my core still flutters with the longest orgasm known to man, his fingers seeming to have a homing device on my G-spot, until I’m left drained and weak, my shoulders slumping as I fight to reclaim measured breathing.

“That was horrible, wasn’t it?” His voice is pure antagonistic arrogance.

I crack an eye open, not overly enthusiastic to see him all smug and superior, but damn the heavens, the dark carnal stare peering back at me brings another pleasurable chill.

I swallow. Nod. “The worst.”

“Well then…” His hand escapes the confines of my soaked thighs, both his palms moving and roughly cupping my ass, dragging me to the edge of the counter. “…let me see if I can try harder to fuck a compliment out of you.”

12

SALVATORE

I dragher off the counter as she grabs her cell.

I’m sure it’s for safety. The false perception of protection.

Good. I’m glad she doesn’t feel safe with me. Especially considering the thoughts that ravaged my mind as I watched her come undone.

She’s so fucking beautiful. A masterpiece of dark lashes and fierce spirit capable of inspiring madness in the strongest of men. And I, unfortunately, am not immune.

“Wrap your legs around me,” I demand.

She raises a brow, almost defiant, but clamps those thighs around my hips, the hem of her dress hitching up to her ass while I stalk for the hall.

If I lowered my gaze, I’d see that pretty pink pussy as I take the staircase leading to the second level. I bet she glistens like a fucking peach. But if I look, I won’t make it to my bedroom, and I refuse to fuck her against the carpet-covered stairs.

I want her in my bed. Beneath me. Pinned.

There aren’t enough hours left in the day to get through the things I want to do to her. I’m dying to claim more of her provocative moans. To feel that slick cunt clamp around my dick.

“You seem lost in thought,niñito.” Her tone is derogatory as she delicately drags her nails along my nape. “Are you concerned your package won’t live up to my standards?”

I smirk. “Fucking terrified.”

If she can lie, so can I.

Not only am I unconcerned about any aspect of my package, I also fucking love her attempts to emasculate me.

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