Page 57 of Forbidden

Her words hit like a match to gasoline, scorching hot, especially with her still kneeling there, bare and devoted. “Then put my cock back in your mouth.”

She dives in, kissing the tip with a wet, sloppy suck, her lips smearing the precum before she swallows me deep. I grab the back of her head, fingers knotting in her messy hair, tugging at the roots, and thrust hard, slamming into her throat. She gags loud, a choked, wet sound, her eyes watering fast, tears streaking down her cheeks, but I don’t ease up. I told her it’d be rough.

I pump faster, brutal, the slick, obscene slurp of me fucking her mouth filling the room, loud and primal, bouncing off the cracked walls.

I’m gone. My hands hold the back of her head, pumping into her like a man possessed.

“Open wider, baby… oh, fucking hell… that’s it… take it all,” I rasp and press her head down firm with both hands, forcing her lips to stretch around me, her jaw trembling. “Fuck, yes… oh, Penelope…” Her name rips out, desperately, the head of my cock jamming against the back of her throat, over and over, relentless.

She moans around me, the sound buzzing hot through my shaft, vibrating up my spine, and I feel it swell. A thick vein pulsing hard along my length.

“You’re so fucking good at this, Pen,” I snarl, my hand holding tight strands of her hair as I shove her down harder, her nose brushing my pelvis, spit dripping thick down her chin, pooling downwards. Her hands clutch my thighs, nails sinking into the denim, leaving crescent marks I’ll feel later, and she hums again, a low, needy sound, her eyes fluttering half-shut, lashes clumped with tears, like she’s drowning in it and loving every second.

I lose it, thrusting savage and fast, my hips snapping, the wet smack of her lips and the choke of her breath driving me insane.

“Penelope—fuck, Penelope!” I sing her name loud, echoing rough as the heat explodes, and I come hard, spilling thick and hot down her throat. I press her head down tight, locking her there, my cock pulsing as she chokes, her throat working fast to swallow, gulping it all down. Her body jerks, a muffled whimper escaping, spit and cum leaking from the corners of her mouth, and I groan deep, shuddering, riding it out until my legs shake and I’m empty.

I pull out slowly, her lips red and swollen, glistening wet, a thin, sticky strand of spit and cum stretching between us as she gasps, inhaling hard. She stares up at me, wrecked and wild, tears streaking her flushed face, her tongue darting out to lick the mess off her lips, those fierce brown eyes never leaving mine.

“Get up!”

I drag her to her feet, spin her around, and slam my still hard dick inside her pussy with no warning. She cries out, a sharp yelp of pain at the brutal force, but soon she melts, matching my rhythm.

She’s soaked, her slick heat coating me, and it’s like a switch flips. I don’t just come alive, I fucking burn for her, a fire that could torch everything we’ve built.

“Faster,” she begs, trembling in my arms, voice cracking with desperation. “Please, go faster… deeper.”

“You feel incredible,” I rasp, my breath hot against her skin.

“Say it again… please…”

I pound into her harder, faster, shoving us both toward the abyss. “You are incredible. I want to be near you, inside you, every goddamn second, Pen. You’re fucking delicious—my own personal drug.”

“Oh… oh… harder, baby… right there… you fuck me so good…”

Her words snap me apart. I spill deep inside her, grunting as I bury my face in her neck, kissing and sucking the sweat-slicked skin. She screams out, her own release crashing through her, our bodies locked in a twisted, ecstatic mess. I bite her neck again, harder this time, knowing it’ll bloom into a hickey by morning.

I don’t care. I need to mark her, claim her as mine, forever etched into her flesh. A quiet part of me wonders if that mark will mean more than either of us can handle come daylight.

Chapter 20

Adriano

I jam my fist into the bastard’s jaw, feeling the crack of bone under my knuckles. Blood sprays across the concrete floor, mixing with the stink of sweat and gunpowder. Ricci’s crew scatters, some running, some dropping dead where they stand. My guys move fast and hunt them down with bullets and blades. Chaos erupts but I keep my eyes locked on Ricci. He’s the prize. The fucker who dared send his son after Penelope. My Penelope.

He’s cornered now, his back pressed against a stack of crates. His face twists with rage, spit flying as he snarls, “You killed my boy, Vieri. My fucking blood! Did you just expect me to look past it?”

I stalk closer, holding my knife tighter. “Your boy came for what’s mine. He paid the price.” My voice stays calm but inside I’m boiling. I see her face again—Penelope’s wide eyes, her trembling hands when I found her with that piece of shit. Ricci’s son got what he deserved. Now it’s his turn.

He lunges, swinging a rusty pipe he snatched off the ground. I sidestep, grabbing his wrist and twisting until it snaps. He screams, dropping to his knees. I don’t hesitate. Shoving him flat on his back, I pin him under my boot, pressing hard into his neck. His eyes bulge, veins popping in his neck. I pull my gun from my waistband, cock it, and stare down at him.

“This is for her,” I say, pressing the barrel to his forehead. He doesn’t get another word out. I pull the trigger. Blood and brains splatter across the floor, and his body goes limp.

I stand there, breathing heavily, staring at the mess. The war’s over. I won. But victory tastes sour when I turn around andsee the cost—bodies everywhere, my men bloodied, the space is thick with death. I wipe my hands on my pants, smearing red across the black fabric, and walk out. There’s work to do.

Back at the house, I sit at my desk, pouring over ledgers, when Henry stumbles in. His face is pale, eyes darting like a trapped rat. He drops to his knees, hands clasped.

“Adriano, please. Forgive me. I fucked up, I know it. I’ll make it right.”

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