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She shakes her head, those coffee-brown eyes lifting to mine—bright, not from the sun glaring down this afternoon, but from something raw: fear, longing, maybe love, all tangled up. “Just because.”

“No, Sweetheart.” I step into her space, voice hardening. “You owe me more than that.”

Her lips pout, and fuck, I want to crash into her, devour that mouth with my tongue until she’s gasping. My cock twitches, straining against my jeans, begging for her. “It’s your world,” she says, voice cracking. “Your life—I’m scared of it, Adriano. I keep saying it because it’s true.”

“My love,” I drawl out and she sighs, slowly closing her eyes as I cup her face in my hands and caress her cheeks. It hits me that this is the first time I’m actually calling her that. I tell myself that it hadn’t been intentional but the more I stare at her, the more certain I become. I really do love her. “I have hundreds of people under me, and I protect each one fiercely. You’re the entire world for me. I’ll protect you with my life.”

She stays silent, but her eyes scream it. The desire, desperation, a mirror to my own hunger. They tell me she’s drowning in this too, maybe deeper than I am, grasping at straws to hold onto us.

I push harder, chasing that last thread of her surrender. “I said I’d give you space in the hospital, but I’m done. It’s been only two weeks, and I want to die. You’re my air, Pen. I’ve pictured your body every fucking day since.”

Her cheeks flush red. “Adriano please…” she breathes, soft and shaky.

I kiss her left cheek, then her right before moving to her nose and eyelids. “I have missed the way you smell…the way you taste…Fuck, I need to feel you right now, Sweetheart.”

She goes still, her breath hitching.

“Penelope, Sweetheart please give in to me—”

“Adriano....”

“Let me give you what I know your body craves.”

“Fuck....you drive me up a wall. I cannot wait,” she whispers, voice trembling. “Please fuck me, Adriano.”

That’s it—my heaven, her begging me to take her. I grab her hand, dragging her through the trees. My car’s an option, but her ragged gasps and my slick palms say we won’t make it. I stop by a thick oak, stepping back to drink her in.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” It feels difficult to breathe now that I’m standing in front of her. It’s strange the way I’ve let myself become addicted to this woman. What I’ve learned in my line of work is that getting this seriously involved with a woman could prove to be both a blessing and a curse. Somehow, now, I couldn’t care less. All I want is her.

“You’re so hot. I need to have a taste of your pussy. I fucking need to taste you again, please.”

She gulps, loud and raw, leaning against the tree, her eyes pinned to mine, so wild and daring me.

I drop to my knees, the damp grass soaking my jeans. The dirt’s going to cling to us, but I give zero fucks.

“I need you now,” she whines, lips parting, her voice a plea that ignites me.

I do not have it in me to tell her to wait, because patience is for suckers. Right here, right now, all that fucking matters is how bad we both crave this. How bad we’ve always craved it, even when we pretended otherwise.

Penelope hikes her dress up, exposing her panties, a thin scrap of fabric daring me to rip it off. I draw them down her legs, rough and fast, letting them pool at her ankles. I kiss her thighs, open and trembling, tasting the creamy smoothness of her skin. She’s soft, too damn soft for a bastard like me. I drag my tongue along her inner thigh, slow and hungry, then scrape my teethacross it, marking her. She gasps, sharp and needy, pressing a hand to her stomach like she’s holding herself together.

“I’m fucking dying here,” she whispers. “Quit teasing me, Adriano. I cannot take it. I need your mouth on my pussy now.”

That’s my green light. I shove a finger inside her, curling it deep, pressing hard against her slick walls. She stumbles, knees buckling, but I clamp my arm around her hips, pinning her to the tree.

“Relax, Sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

I dive in, rolling my tongue through her dripping folds, and she moans so loud, shameless, a sound that shoots straight to my cock. I do it again, lapping at her, tasting how soaked she is, just to watch her squirm. She grinds against me, hips bucking, chasing my finger and mouth. I plunge deeper, sucking her wet pussy, every lick pulling me into her orbit. She’s my goddamn salvation, right here, spilling over my tongue.

My jeans strain, my cock throbbing, rock-hard and leaking, but I do not stop. I need her to feel it—how she drags me to the edge of sanity and back. I hum against her clit, vibrations pulsing through her, and she digs her fingers into my hair, nails digging into my scalp. The sting mixes with the heat, a fucked up cocktail I cannot get enough of.

Then she shatters, coming hard, flooding my mouth with her taste. I drink her down, every last drop, greedy for it.

“I want to bury myself in you,” I growl, surging to my feet, wiping her slickness off my chin.

“Please… please… fuck, please!” she begs, voice breaking.

I hook one of her legs over my arm, shoving my jeans and briefs down just enough to free my cock. I thrust into her, raw and deep, and her cry, half pain, half ecstasy, it sets my blood on fire. I plunge in fully, pounding into the woman who owns me, body and soul.

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