Page 55 of Forbidden

I push her back against the wall of the building, my hands on her ass, pressing hard into her.

“You sure?” I growl, pressing hard against her, my cock already twitching as her hips grind into me. “You told me we’re doomed.”

“I know,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders, her body rocking against mine. “I was scared. But I’m done running. I need you.”

“Good,” I growl, my hips grinding against hers, feeling her heat through my jeans.

Her lips crash into mine, fierce and messy, tasting of salt and want. I groan into her mouth, tongue shoving past, claiming her as I grind harder, the friction sparking heat through my jeans. She’s soft, warm, trembling under me, and I pin her tighter to the wall, my hands roaming her thighs, squeezing hard enough to bruise.

Her robe falls open wider, and I see her tits clear now, nipples stiff and begging. I pull the nightgown down, fabric stretching, and pull her boobs free, my mouth closing over one fast. I suck hard, tongue flicking, tasting her skin, and she moans loud, arching into me.

“Adriano,” she gasps, her hands grabbing my hair, pulling me tighter as I bite down, then switch to the other, sucking rough, leaving marks. Her hips rock against mine, desperate, the friction driving me wild.

“Take me inside,” she whispers, voice shaky and her eyes needy when I pull back to look at her.

I don’t waste time. I carry her, her legs still locked around me, and shove the door open with my shoulder, stumbling into her apartment. The room is full with her scent—floral and sweet. I head for the couch, ready to drop her and fuck her right there, but she squirms, pushing at me and slips out of my reach.

“Wait,” she says, panting, her nightgown hanging crooked, nipples still out, glistening from my mouth. “Not yet.”

I stop cold, hands flexing, my blood pounding loud. “What the fuck?”

She drags a hand through her hair, pacing a step, then faces me, eyes fierce. “I mean it—I’m sorry. But we got to talk first. I can’t just dive back in like nothing happened.”

I lean against the wall, arms crossed, fighting the urge to grab her again. “Then talk. Say what you got to say.”

She bites her lip, glancing away, then back at me. “Charlotte told me everything. Some gold-digger cleaned her out, stolefrom her dad too. She thought you’d save her, marry her, fix it all. Then I came back, and you wouldn’t even look at her. She said if I was gone, you’d want her again. She’s broken, crying about how nobody wants her, not even Henry now.”

“Charlotte’s fucking unhinged,” I snap, pushing off the wall, pacing tight. “I never loved her, it was a deal, a move with Henry. She turned it into some fairy tale in her head. Then you showed up, and I couldn’t keep up the act. That’s my shit, not yours.”

“I know,” she says, stepping closer, voice softer. “But it scared me. Made me think this is us forever, always dodging crazy. I pushed you away because I was scared I’d drown in it.”

I grab her face, rough but steady, locking eyes. “You’re in it, cara. So am I. It’s messy, bloody, fucked—but I’d take a bullet before I let you go. You hear me?”

She nods, tears welling, and presses her forehead to mine. “I hear you. I’m just scared I’ll lose myself.”

“You won’t,” I say, low and firm, thumbs brushing her cheeks. “You’re tougher than me, always were. I’m the one falling apart without you.”

She laughs, quick and raw, and I feel us locking back together. We’re still a mess but she’s here, choosing me back. That’s enough for now.

I kiss her again for a while before she pulls her mouth from mine, breaking the kiss just as it teeters on the edge of chaos. I nearly snarl in protest, but then she lets her robe slip off her shoulders, slowly, peeling it away for my greedy eyes. She stands there, bare except for that pendant I gave her years back, dangling between her breasts like a filthy little secret.

My tongue darts out, wetting my lips as I devour her with my eyes, every curve and contour sinking into me like it’s the first damn time. That’s the twisted truth with her—that every second with Penelope feels like I’m cracking open something new, over and over, a junkie chasing that first high.

“Jesus Christ, Penelope, you’re my fucking drug!” I rasp, voice thick with need.

A small, wicked smile curls her lips, tempting and ripe with unspoken promises. She doesn’t say a word, but I can feel it in her bones that she’s hooked on me just as bad. That silent vow in her eyes pulls me deeper into her orbit.

“Touch your tits, Pen,” I growl, not giving a shit how feral I sound. “Play with them for me, sweetheart.”

She obeys, her fingers tracing down her clavicle first, teasing the skin before sliding to her nipples. They’re pink, stiff, and begging, and she works them with her palms, brushing soft at first, then pinching hard between her fingers. My cock throbs painfully against my pants, the sight of her like this a gut-punch of depravity. It’s intimate, obscene, a private show I can’t tear my eyes from, and I fucking revel in it.

“What else do you want?” she whispers, her stare piercing straight through me, bold and unguarded. “I’m yours tonight, Adriano. All yours.”

“Sit on the edge of the couch and spread your legs for me,” I snarl. She steps back until her heels bump the couch. She sinks down, thighs parting wide, her eyes locked on mine, unflinching, hypnotic, daring me to look away.

“Touch your tight little pussy for me, sweetheart.”

“Tonight’s just for you…” she murmurs, a low rumble of defiance in her tone.

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