My cheeks flushed until they burned. I tried to look away, but his fingers nudged underneath my jaw. Now was probably the time to tell him Ihadn’tseen a man before, at least not one that wanted to put himself anywhere nearme, but instead I blurted, “I’ve seen Matteo’s before.”
God, he was like fire and ice in one body, and I apparently wanted to be burned.
Blazing rage ripped through his expression, and he shuddered, his muscles rippling as he tensed and untensed in a rhythm that told me he was trying to calm down but was failing. “What did you just say?”
“I said?—”
His fingers wrapped around my throat as he pounced on me, shoving me further into the chaise. My eyes could’ve popped from their sockets, and I wouldn’t have been surprised, but what I didn’t expect was my core to ache in response.
Ineededhim, needed him to take away all the decisions and choices, just for once.
Milan’s teeth grazed my shoulder before he sank his bite into my skin and thrust his fingers deep inside me in one sharp movement. The pain was visceral, sharp and dull all at once. I tried to yelp breathlessly, bucking my hips into him as he caged me against the sofa and refused to let my lungs gasp for air.
“You are so wet and tight,” he growled into my ear, plunging his digits in and out of me until I could hear the evidence of my arousal slicking his hands. “Is this for Matteo, hm?”
His hold on my throat released, only enough for me to gasp in an ocean of air and shake my head, and then the pressure was building again, close to bursting in my temples and between my thighs. I couldn’t gasp his name, couldn’t beg, couldn’tbreathe,but I could reach between us. I took his cock into my grip, tugging hard even though I had never touched a man and didn’t know what I was doing. It was easy enough to work out that hewanted it rough, at least right now, and his groan of approval told me that I was doing something right.
He throbbed in my hand, the thick tip leaking pearls of precum, the veins pulsing thicker the harder I rubbed him.
A snarl left my own lips as he worked me harder against the speed of what I was doing to him like it was a competition.
I wanted to win. Needed it even.
Black stars burned in my vision as the lack of air began to suffocate me, but I had to win, had to show him that this dark side didn’t scare me because I had one of my own, that I was not weak and could handle him. I nudged my nails into the open wound on his rib cage, curling my fingers into the gaping slice.
My skin sung as his hot blood dribbled in crimson droplets onto my stomach and he released my throat to groan in pain, moving his palm to smudge the blood into my breasts instead, still pounding his fingers in and out of me as he watched me cough and splutter as if my lungs had forgotten how to breathe.
“Exquisite,” he mumbled under his breath.
“You are,” I croaked, tracing his blood over the river of silver scars that spread over his shoulders and chest.
He frowned, the man peeking through the mask of the monster. He didn’t know how to understand a compliment like that, how to take it and accept it, but as my thighs shuddered and I came with a cry that made the walls shake, he knew how to take that as a satisfactory outcome that he had manipulated and controlled.
I sagged in slight relief, but mostly at the loss of him when he yanked his fingers out of me.
“I am not done with you yet,” he purred, fisting his rock-hard cock as he eyed my weeping pussy like it was a prize to be won. “You made me hard.” I sucked in a breath when he lined his tip with my entrance. “You will fix it like a good wife.”
He slammed into me in one hard thrust.
Hot, piercing pain flooded my core, my thighs,everywhere. He broke me open, my back arching at my cry to try and contain the throbbing stretch and the heatwaves of pure pain.
Milan stilled, his eyes bearing into my own like the truth was swimming in them. His brows furrowed as he shifted slightly, still deep inside of me but pulling back for a moment.
Even my breathing quieted as we stared at each other.
He knew.
He brought his fingers to the flickering light of the candle and exhaled slowly, as if he could see the difference between his blood and mine.
“Informing me of your virginity should have been the first thing out of your mouth, Sicily.”
“You shouldn’t have assumed.” I scoffed. “Who would I have had sex with?”
“Matteo Bonafede.”
I deserved that one.
A hum left my lips when he rolled his hips slowly, but what dulled the pain was how he sucked on the fingers coated with my blood and arousal, moaning like it was his favorite taste to consume.
