Page 156 of Brutal Heir
A slow smile curves her lips. “You gonna keep staring at me like that, husband?”
Dio, I’ll never get tired of that word.
“In my defense,” I whisper, walking toward her, “you’re fucking beautiful. And I’ve been imagining this moment for weeks.” I stop in front of her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin. “No interruptions. No Quinlans. No ER trips. Just you and me.”
Rory’s smile softens. She lifts her hand and cups my cheek, thumb brushing the scar near my jaw. Her wedding band glints in the low light. “You saved me, Ale.”
I press my forehead to hers. “And you gave me my life back.”
We stay like that, breathing each other in, letting the gravity of this night settle between us.
Then she steps back and slowly reaches for the zipper at her side.
My breath catches.
She doesn’t break eye contact as the fabric slips down her perfect form, pooling silently at her feet. Beneath, she wears nothing but a white lace bra and matching panties. Simple. Elegant. Lethal.
Every thought evaporates. My body locks, my hands fisting at my sides to keep from grabbing her too fast. She’s still recovering… I need the reminder.
“Cazzo, Red,” I whisper hoarsely.
She walks to me, wrapping her arms around my neck, chest pressing against mine. “You said you’ve been imagining this moment…” She brushes her lips over mine. “So have I. Every night.”
That’s all it takes.
I scoop her up into my arms, kissing her slow and deep, pouring everything I’ve felt into the slide of my mouth againsthers. Grief. Hope. Longing. Love. I lay her gently on the bed, pausing to look down at her, at the small bandage that still remains. I memorize every detail. “Are you sure I won’t hurt you?” I whisper, even now, because I’ll never take a single part of her for granted.
Rory’s eyes are molten. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
I shrug out of my clothes with shaking hands, watching the hunger spark in her eyes as I bare myself to her, all my scars, everything I am. Her gaze remains fixed to mine, never deviating.
Then I carefully crawl over her, fitting myself against her like we were carved to match.
“Is this okay?” I whisper.
“More than okay…”
Her skin is silk under my hands, her mouth fever-hot and demanding.
“I love you,” I murmur into the hollow of her throat.
“I love you,” she breathes, arching into me.
Fear pummels into me as my cock nudges at her entrance. I’m so desperate to be inside her sweetness I’m scared I’ll hurt her.
Her hand finds my cheek, forcing my wild eyes to meet her steady ones. “You’re not going to hurt me.”
“If I do, you’ll stop me, right?”
She nods. “I promise.”
Molten desire races through my veins, and it takes all my restraint to gently slide into her. The moment I’m fully sheathed inside, the world stills. Her gasp is soft, reverent, her nails digging into my back. I move slowly at first, terrified, then when I feel her relax, I begin to enjoy every moment. To savor the way her body clings to mine, how perfectly we fit.
Her eyes never leave mine. We move together like we were made for this, for each other. No rush. No noise. Just the soft slide of skin on skin, the rhythmic rise of pleasure, the growing desperation in our breaths.
“Dio, I missed this.” I kiss away the tear that slips down her cheek. “I’ve got you, Mrs. Rossi,” I promise. “Always.”
Her hips lift to meet mine. “Don’t you dare stop.”
