Page 34 of Tormented Oath

My fingers trail down her back, over the curve of her ass, and then between her legs. She’s still so wet, still so ready for me. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them just right. She moans, her hips pushing back against my hand, and I growl, “That’s it. Take it.”

I pump my fingers in and out of her, slow and deliberate, my thumb circling her clit. She’s shaking beneath me, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, and I lean down, biting her shoulder as I whisper, “So fucking perfect.”

Her body tenses, her pussy clenching around my fingers, and then she’s coming, her voice breaking as she screams my name. I don’t let up, driving her through her orgasm, until she’s trembling, her body slick with sweat.

I pull my fingers out of her, bringing them to my lips and sucking her taste off them. She watches me over her shoulder, her eyes heavy with lust, and I smirk, “You taste perfect.”

My hands move to her hips, and I pull her back, my cock sliding into her pussy in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her body arching. “You’re going to take every inch of me, aren’t you, Ava?”

“Y-Yes,” she gasps, her voice breaking as her pussy clenches around me again.

I suddenly spin her till she’s underneath me again and continue to fuck her hard, my hips slamming into hers, the sound of our skin meeting filling the room.

Her cries are music to my ears, her body writhing beneath me as I drive her closer to the edge. I reach around, my fingers finding her clit, and I rub it in tight, fast circles.

Ava arches beneath me, her hands gripping my shoulders, and my world narrows to this single moment. Her skin glows golden in the dim light, her dark hair spread across my pillows like spilled ink. Beautiful. Dangerous. Mine.

"Stefano..." My name on her lips sounds like surrender.

I try to be gentle, to maintain some semblance of control. She deserves tenderness, deserves a lover who can give her pleasure without possession. But when she moves against me like this, every careful plan shatters.

I capture her mouth with mine, swallowing her gasp. Her taste, her scent, the way she responds to my touch—it's addictive. Maddening. I could spend lifetimes learning every sound she makes, every way her body moves with mine.

She trembles beneath me, and I force myself to slow down. To be the man she needs rather than the monster who wants to devour her whole. My fingers trace her cheek, surprisingly gentle given how my heart thunders.

"Beautiful," I murmur against her throat. "Perfect."

But even as I worship her with careful touches, my mind races with darker thoughts. I want to mark her, claim her, ensure no one else will ever see her like this. I want to keep her locked away in this penthouse where she'll be safe, protected, mine forever.

The intensity of my need should frighten me. Instead, it feels inevitable. As natural as breathing. Isn’t this what I have been dreaming of for so long?

Her body tenses, back arching as pleasure overtakes her. The sight of her coming undone beneath me yet again, trusting me with her vulnerability, feeds something dark in my soul.

I follow her over the edge, her name a prayer and a curse on my lips. For a moment, there's nothing but this—our ragged breaths, our racing hearts, the perfect symmetry of our bodies joined.

Reality creeps back slowly. I gather her close, unwilling to break contact even for a moment. She curls into me instinctively, seeking my warmth, and satisfaction purrs through my veins. Even her unconscious movements prove she belongs to me.

"Stay," I whisper into her hair, meaning so much more than just tonight.

Stay in my bed. Stay in my life. Stay mine forever.

She hums with content, already drifting asleep. I should let her rest, should focus on business, on the hundreds of threats waiting beyond these walls. Instead, I watch her breathe, taking in every detail of this moment.

* * *

Moonlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows as Ava nestles against my chest, her breathing soft and steady. The question burns on my tongue, carefully planned yet still dangerous. Timing is everything—in business, in war, in love.

"That motel isn't safe for you," I say, keeping my voice casual while my fingers trace patterns on her bare shoulder. "Especially not in that neighborhood."

She tenses slightly, weighing my words. Always calculating, my clever girl. "I've survived worse."

"You shouldn't have to." I shift to look at her. “The penthouse has three empty bedrooms. More space than I know what to do with."

I could suggest an apartment near the club again, an idea she toyed with the first time she walked into the club, but I don’t want her to accept that offer. I want her here.

"Stefano..." There’s a warning in her tone, but also consideration. I press my advantage.

"Think about it logically. Better security. Central location. Plus, you'd save money. Put more aside for that Montana dream of yours."

---