Page 116 of The Ache That Stayed

She came so hard against my mouth, moaning my name, broken and raw. That’s how I knew this was a ruin she’d never walk away from. I didn’t stop. Even as her second wave of orgasm hit, even as she shattered against me, trembling, undone—I didn’t stop.

She thought I’d leave her again. Never. Not now. Especially now that I finally had her—I had no intention of letting her go.

CHAPTER 31

Roxanne

Before I could come down from the high of the orgasms he had dragged out of me, he lifted me off the counter.

Like I weighed nothing and belonged in his arms.

My body was still trembling, still sensitive, every nerve ending alive and raw, and I barely had time to breathe before he was moving, carrying me out of the kitchen. My head fell against his shoulder without thinking.

Because it felt right. Too right. Like my body no longer cared about the rules my mind kept throwing at it.

He tightened his hold on me like if he loosened it, I might disappear. His mouth found the side of my throat—kissing, nipping, memorising, tasting my skin as he carried me to the bedroom.

Two years of his absence had pushed me into a dark place I never wanted to see again. I promised myself I’d never forgive him, yet here I was, in barely a month of being near him, collapsing for him like a house of cards in a storm.

The door slammed open, the sound sharp in the quiet. He laid me on the bed, chest heaving, hair wild from my constant tugs. My mouth fell open at the outline of his length beneath his sweatpants. I felt a new wave of arousal at my core. I’d never felt this heady. This carnal. This wanton in my own lust.

He let out a frustrated grunt and ripped off my t-shirt like it was a crime to wear one in his presence. His gaze stayed on me, watching, reading, waiting for my reaction. I was only in my lace bra, and his eyes darkened with greed as they landed on my breasts.

His hand moved, slowly, from my stomach up to my bra, palming my breast over it. My body surrendered without permission, moving of its own accord, arching into his touch, chasing his warmth before I could think.

“Sei troppo bella,” he murmured, voice rough, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

He circled my nipple through my bra once before pinching it. Electricity shot through my body, making my toes curl. He did it again and again, watching me writhe under his touch. A helpless moan broke out of me before I could stop it. He then took off the bra and captured a nipple in his mouth while palming the other.

White light shot behind my eyes as the sensation settled between my legs. He switched between them like he couldn’t decide which one he wanted more. I nearly arched off the bed while grinding my pussy against his arousal through his sweatpants.

I wanted to feel him. All of him. I took off his t-shirt and tugged at the band of his sweatpants, pulling them down.

I wasn’t ready.

I was.

My hand brushed along his length as the fabric slid down, my breath catching at the feel of him—hard, warm. My finger dragged across his slit, spreading precum along the swollen head of his cock. My tongue flicked out instantly, before I bit down on my lip. I wanted to taste him. Wanted to know him the way he seemed to know every part of me.

His hand caught my wrist before I could move further.

“Not now,” he hissed. “I need to be inside you first.”

Everything blurred.

Him. Me.

The line between right and wrong erased.

He dragged his cock from my entrance to my clit, the slow friction sending a sharp wave through me, sending me into a heady frenzy, making my body throb with a need I couldn’t contain. My hips lifting instinctively, chasing the sensation.

This was a mistake.

Then why did it feel like the only thing that had ever made sense?

Then slowly, he pushed into me—overwhelming, unrelenting, nothing held back. And every thought shattered under the sheer reality of him. The vulnerability of it all felt too real, too close—

Despite how ready I was, there was still resistance. His size stretched me in a way that made my breath catch, a sharp, consuming pressure that bordered on pain.