Page 209 of Legacy
“That’s it, Tesoro,” he rasps, breath hot against my soaked skin, “give it to me. Let me have you.”
I fall apart with a scream, my vision going white as the pleasure rips me open, wave after wave tearing through me until I’m limp, trembling, ruined.
He doesn’t let me go, licking me through it, dragging me deeper until the pleasure burns, until tears slip from the corners of my eyes, until the only thing I know is him, his mouth, his voice whispering, “Mine. Mine. Mine,” like a prayer he can’t stop saying.
When he finally pulls back, his lips are wet, jaw tense, eyes dark and alive, chest heaving.
He crawls up my body, pinning me with the weight of him, his face inches from mine, breath hot as his forehead presses to mine.
“You’re never getting rid of me,” he whispers, soft and dangerous, a promise. “Not now. Notever.”
And when he kisses me, it’s slow, deep,claiming. His tongue sliding against mine, tasting me, tasting us, a final brand I will never wash away.
And for a moment, there is no past.
No anger.
No walls.
Only us.
He pulls back, eyes locked on mine.
My breath hitches, confused, my body still trembling, still open, still wanting.
“Angelo—” I start, reaching for him as I sit up.
But he’s already moving, crossing the room, grabbing a pair of clean panties from the dresser and dropping them beside me on the bed.
My brows knit. “What are you doing?” My voice is raw, wrecked.
He smirks, but it’s softer around the edges. “Getting you dressed.”
“What about you?” I blurt, my eyes dropping to the thick line of his cock straining against his sweats.
His jaw ticks, his eyes flickering with heat, but he just shakes his head.
“Later, Tesoro.” His thumb swipes across my bottom lip, pressing gently, watching the way I shiver. “I want to show you something first.”
I swallow, my heart pounding, heat still coiling low in my belly.
“What?” I whisper.
His eyes darken, the smirk falling away.
“Where I come from. Where I’ve been. So you know exactly what you’re choosing.”
He leans down, pressing one last kiss to my lips—slow, deep, promising before pulling back, leaving me breathless.
“Get dressed, Scarlet,” he says quietly. “We’re going for a drive.”
***
The car ride is quiet, comfortable.
The kind of silence that only comes after something real has been shared.
I sit with one leg curled beneath me, watching the way his fingers flex against the wheel, the veins on his forearms catching the sunlight as it streaks through the window.
