Page 121 of Thorns of Death
I almost choked, heat traveling through every inch of my body. “You’ve snooped through my Kindle?”
He shrugged, completely unconcerned with my right to privacy. “It was wide open.”
“It’s notmybook.”
The look he gave me said he didn’t believe me. It didn’t matter. It was the book Athena wrote, and since she considered me a sexpert now—because I had a hot Italian daddy for a husband—she begged me to read her sex scenes.
“Come here.” He pointed to the edge of the bed where he stood. “We’re going to act it out nonetheless. Anything and everything filthy my wife dreams of, we’re going to do. So when you read those books, you’ll think only of me.”
Gosh, he was possessive. It didn’t matter though. Because I was on board. In fact, I might ask Athena to send me all her filthy sex scenes from now on. I’d leave my Kindle wide open if that’s what it took.
I rolled to my hands and knees, then crawled to him, fixing my gaze with his dark one. He followed my movements like a predator, eager to devour me. Once in front of him, I closed the distance, pressing my lips to his.
“I can smell your arousal, my filthypiccolina.”
“And I can feel your hard cock pushing against my belly, my filthy Italian daddy.” Then as if to prove my point, I wrapped my small hand around his hard length. It always surprised me to see him so big. It made my insides clench, needing to feel him inside me.
This insane attraction never ceased to amaze me.
He kissed me hard, brutal and demanding, making my body soften for him. Deep down, I loved his dominance. His control. But only to a certain extent. And only in the bedroom.
He pushed me, and my back hit the mattress. He was on me in the next breath, spreading my legs wide and bringing his mouth to me, eating me like a starved man dying for sustenance. My hands grabbed on to his thick dark hair, arching my hips and rocking against his mouth.
I throbbed with the need to come. The wet heat of his mouth set my entire body on fire. I moaned. I cried. I squirmed against his firm hold. Mindless lust danced through my veins, and I lowered one hand to my thigh, locking my fingers with his.
Sparks burned hotter, threatening to turn me to ash. I panted, my muscles pulling tight as pleasure built and built. Then suddenly, the pressure exploded.
I came so hard, my ears rang. I struggled to breathe, a languid sensation pulling on every fiber of me.
My eyes fluttered open to find him pressing a soft kiss to the tip of my nose. “I’ll never get tired of hearing your moans. Until my last breath.”
My heart trembled. My soul sang. Fuck, I wasn’t falling for this man. I was already in love with him. So fucking in love.
“I want more,” I murmured. “Mark me with your cum.”
“Madonna, woman. You’ll make me come like a teenage boy,” he rasped.
He grabbed the bottle of lube and crawled over me until his knees straddled me and his cock rested between my breasts. Popping the cap, he poured the cool liquid over my breasts, and without needing prompting, I rubbed it in, making them slippery for him.
After all, that was what happened in the book.
I made a show of it, rubbing it slowly, pinching my nipples and holding his gaze.
“Can I put some on your cock too?” I offered.
“Sì.” His voice was guttural. Rough. His eyes were as dark as coals. I squirted a tiny bit of lube into my palm and coated his erection.
“Is this good?”
He nodded. “Press your tits together. Tightly.”
I squeezed my boobs around his cock and his head fell back, a groan falling from his lips. It was mesmerizing to watch him. So damn erotic that I thought I’d orgasm again, right here and now. He returned his stare to me, fixated on my chest as my breasts squeezed his cock. His hips started to move, his sculpted stomach muscles flexing.
I pinched my nipples, gasping as the electricity shot through my veins. My pussy throbbed and I rolled my head back as bliss washed over me. All the while his hips kept thrusting between my boobs.
“Look at me when I fuck your tits,” he ordered, and I instantly obeyed.
The fire in his eyes burned brighter as flames licked over my skin. He reached for my clit, stroking it. Wet and slippery sounds mixed with my desperate whimpers made the scene we were reenacting downright filthy.
