This kiss is everything I didn’t know I wanted. His mouth is hot and demanding. He cups my nape with one hand while the other goes to my ass, fingers digging in to hold me tight. His tongue lashes mine as he deepens the kiss, and I wrap my arms around his neck, clinging to him just as desperately.
He devours me, kissing me like I’m the next hit he needs, groaning into my mouth. Then he bites my lower lip and wraps my hair around his fist, pulling with a firm insistence that has me gasping and dropping my head back to give him what he demands. His lips are on my throat, delivering hot, openmouthed kisses that make a rush of heat flood my pussy. I’m so wet I can feel it practically dripping down my thigh.
He kisses lower, finding the lacy edge of my bra. When he grabs it in his teeth and yanks it down with an animalistic growl, my breast pops free, my nipple tight and pointed up to him like an offering. He takes it in his mouth, sucking hard.
It’s my turn to groan when he catches my nipple in his teeth and tugs. My clit pulses wildly. I don’t think I’ve ever needed to come this badly. It’s a bone-deep ache inside me.
He releases his grip on my ass to grab the other lacy bra demi cup and drag it down. Then his mouth is on the aching tip, sucking so hard my knees almost give out. The way he’s pulled down the bra leaves my breasts pushed up in an obscene display. He takes his time, pinching and twisting one nipple while devouring the other.
My hands are on his shoulders, the heat of him electrifying. I can’t resist running my fingers through his hair. It’s still damp from his shower, thick and smooth. My eyes close, and he bites my nipple hard enough to sting.
But even that sends a surge of excitement through me, landing between my legs.
“Eyes open,cara. I don’t want you to pretend it’s anyone else who makes you come.”
I give in again, lashes fluttering open, and watch as he draws my nipple back into his mouth.
“You didn’t make me come,” I point out, not willing to entirely surrender.
He straightens and gives me a look that’s enough to set my panties on fire. “Not yet, but if you ask nicely, maybe I’ll even let you come twice.”
His smug arrogance makes me want to slap him and kiss him. It’s hot and maddening.
I release my hold on him and pull the lace of my bra over my swollen nipples. “I can make myself come as many times as I choose.”
I start to walk away from him, needing to put some distance between us.
A stinging swat on my butt stops me.
“No one is touching that pussy except for me.”
I whirl back to him. “I can touch myself whenever I want, however I want.”
His blue eyes smolder into mine, the intensity scorching. “Wrong,cara. Now that we’re married, it’s mine. I own you, body and soul.”
He takes a step toward me. He’s still naked, still hard, and I can’t keep my gaze from slipping from his to drink in the rest of him. His dick is massive. I think he’ll split me in two with that thing.
I take a step back. “You don’t own me, Andriani.”
“You’re my wife.” He prowls forward.
“By force. Not because I want to be.” I cross my arms over my chest, but that move backfires. It only pushes my breasts together like ripe offerings. “But my body, my rules.”
He comes closer, shaking his head slowly. “The only rules in this marriage are going to be the ones I make. Don’t worry,cara mia, you’ll like them. Now lie on the bed like a good girl, and I’ll prove just how much.”
What is wrong with me? I like this side of him, dark and possessive and dominant. I want to do everything he asks. To get on my knees for him, to take his big cock in my mouth and suck him until he shoots down my throat. My panties are already soaked, my lips still imprinted with the memory of his kisses, my nipples aching from the expert way he played with them.
As if he can read my mind—or maybe it’s just the direction of my stare—he strokes himself from base to tip. “Like what you see?”
Yes, even if I am a bit worried about his size. Even if everything about him sets off major red flags and alarm bells. Lorenzo Andriani is a beautiful man, and there’s no denying it. Judging from the smug expression on his handsome face, he knows it too.
He doesn’t stop until we’re pressed against each other again and there’s no place for me to go, the bed behind me keeping me from retreating any farther. “Looks pretty average to me,” I lie just to taunt him.
Fighting him turns me on. It has since the moment I woke up chained to a bed in his shitty little cabin. And now that we’re here like this, husband and wife, his naked body against mine, the lust burning through me is off the charts.
He grazes my panties with the backs of his fingers, and it takes all the willpower I have not to grind myself against him, seeking more.
“I think your pussy disagrees with you. Your panties are fucking soaked.”
