Page 58 of Desperate Crimes
She blinks up at me, dazed, flushed, glowing in the dark.
“Nico,” she breathes, knowing instinctively what I need to hear from her.
My name. She’s saying my name. And it’s spilling from her perfect lips like a font that’ll never run dry.
“Nico,” she repeats, and I close my eyes and just let it settle inside my bones.
“It’s you, Nico. It’s always been you.”
I press the head of my cock to her entrance and nearly lose my fucking mind at the heat.
I growl.
“You’re mine now, Princess. All mine.”
Then I push.
Hard.
I feel every inch as I slide inside her—tight, wet, hot, perfect.
Her body resists for a breathless second, then yields.
Her breath catches.
Her hands fly to my biceps, nails digging in.
Her back arches.
Fuck.
She’s so tight.
So fucking wet.
It’s like her body was made for me.
Like it’s been waiting—just like I have.
I press deeper, slowly and steadily, until I’m fully buried to the hilt inside her.
My vision goes white.
Every breath is a curse.
A prayer.
A broken promise kept.
She gasps beneath me, eyes wide, mouth parted.
“You feel that, Princess?” I rasp. “That’s where I belong.”
I stay there—deep inside her—relishing the moment, the truth of it.
“This pussy,” I groan, thrusting once, slow and hard, “was always mine.”
I pull back, just enough to feel the drag, then slam in again.
