Page 53 of The Proposal

I feel his body shake with laughter as he draws back to stare down at me. He’s sporting that infuriating smug grin of his again. “You never fail to amuse me, Arabella.”

“Are we doing this or not?”

“We are so doing this,” he says, dipping his face to kiss me. I’m presuming it is a distraction because a few seconds later, he slips the tip inside me and pauses.

I’m stretched to capacity, and although it burns, it still feels good.

He draws back slightly, and when he moves forward again, he goes in further. This time, it hurts, and I feel my body stiffen.

“Relax,Bellezza.”

He stills, giving me a moment to adjust before he begins moving again. With each thrust, he enters me a little more, and it feels like I’m being split in two.

“Am I hurting you?” he asks through ragged breaths and a clenched jaw.

I nod my head as tears burn the back of my eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” I reply, my voice cracking slightly.

“I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“Please, don’t.”

“I feel like an arsehole because, for me, you feel so good.”

“Keep going,” I encourage.

His body goes rigid, and he shifts his hand between us to massage my clit, and I hate that it feels like I’m ruining this for him. He’s been so patient with me.

My eyes flutter shut at the pleasure his hand brings. The sensation feels so much more intense, being partly full of him.

When he begins to rock his hips, though, I can’t hide theflinch as the pain returns. Dante notices because he stops moving again. “Am I hurting you that much,Tesoro?”

“Not really,” I lie. I gather it won’t be this bad forever. Surely, women wouldn’t be having sex all the time if it did.

“Just get it over with. Push through that barrier. I won’t be angry at you.”

His face rears back as he stares down at me with a pinched brow. “Get it over with?”

“You know what I mean.”

He uses his flattened palms to push himself up as he starts to withdraw, so I wrap my arms around his waist, halting him. “Don’t stop.”

“Arabella,” he says with a sigh. “I’ve done some pretty shitty things in my life, but hurting you isn’t something I ever want to do.”

“Dante,” I murmur, lifting my hands to gently cup his face. “I appreciate that, I do, but it’s inevitable. You’re my husband … I’m your wife. If we are ever going to make this marriage work, we need to move past this.”

He blows out a long breath, resting his forehead on my shoulder. “I?—”

I grit my teeth and buck my hips forward, taking matters into my own hands.

“Fuck, Arabella …fuck.”

“Move with me, Dante … please.”

His lips find their way back to mine, and when he rolls his hips, I bite the inside of my cheek, riding through the pain.

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