Page 79 of His Son's Ex

“You taste like fucking heaven.”

I laugh breathlessly, dragging him up to kiss me. “I need you inside me.”

I hook a leg around his waist, drawing him closer, feeling the solid warmth of his cock pressing into me. Our eyes meet, full of… love? Maybe. We haven’t said it out loud, but it hovers in the background like a secret waiting to be confessed.

He finally eases into me.

“Oh,fuck.”

He starts slow, mindful of every movement, every breath. I bite my lower lip, nails digging lightly into his biceps, urging him on. He takes the cue, building a steady rhythm that draws tiny gasps from me with each thrust. My mind blanks, every sense focused on the slick heat of him moving inside my pussy, the sound of his breathing, our bodies rubbing together in a poetic motion.

Pressure builds within, an electric tension coiling tighter and tighter. My world narrows to the friction between us, the way each stroke sends a pulse of pleasure up my spine. Sweat beads on my forehead, mixing with the faint perfume of the night air drifting in through the window.

Dante’s voice is low and ragged near my ear. “You feel so… goddamn, Eva…”

His words send a fresh pulse of heat through me, and I answer with a breathless moan, tilting my hips just right to take him in deeper. He groans, gripping my waist as if grounding himself. I watch as he plunges into me over and over.

“Deeper,” I whisper, biting my lip. “I want to feel all of you.”

Without missing a beat, he slides off to the side and moves behind me, pulling me back against him. His chest is pressed to my back, one arm slipping around my shoulders, the other gripping my thigh. The change is quick and deliberate, and when he thrusts again, it’s deeper, hotter. More intimate.

I whimper, clutching his forearm, the angle sending pleasure shooting through me in waves.

“You like that?” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“Yes,” I gasp, my voice needy. “Don’t stop. Please, Dante, don’t stop.”

His pace is unhurried but powerful, every roll of his hips making me tremble. One hand drifts down, fingers brushing my clit with just enough pressure to make me gasp his name. I arch back against him, completely lost in the heat and rhythm, and the way he seems to know exactly how to touch me, how to make me come undone.

“I love how you fall apart for me,” he growls, kissing my shoulder. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

I intertwine my fingers through his, squeezing tightly as the tension builds to a breaking point. “I’m… almost… I’m right there.”

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “Come with me.”

A cry rips from my throat as pleasure crashes through me, white-hot and all-consuming. He groans against my neck, his own orgasm following a heartbeat later, intensifying mine. His entire body shudders behind me as he releases deep inside.

For a long moment, we remain entwined, trembling, breathless. His arm curls tighter around me, his chest rising and falling against my back.

“You okay?”

I smile, utterly spent. “I’m more than okay.”

He kisses the top of my shoulder. “That’s true because you’re perfect.”

I turn my head just enough to meet his eyes, dark and tender. “Even when I’m bossy in bed?”

He chuckles. “Especially then.”

We laugh and I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of him, letting the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart soothe me as we bask in the afterglow.

The night air brushes our damp skin, quite a contrast to the heat we just unleashed. He shifts, tugging the covers up over us, then turns me to face him, propping his head up on one hand.

I manage a tired smile. “Thank you. That was exactly what I needed.”

He glances over his shoulder at the barely-touched tiramisu. “Almost.” He grabs the bowl and fork and hands them to me.

“Sexanddessert?” I ask. “Seems too decadent.”

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