Page 66 of His Sacrifice

“I don’t need one.” I stare back, trying to look fearless. Her hair has fallen over one shoulder and she looks so fucking divine riding my cock that I’m struggling to hold myself back.

“Your choice.” She shrugs her shoulders. The tears are still running off her cheeks, and they drip to land on my hands as they knead her perfectly round tits.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” Her nails dig into my chest as she speaks. “I cried myself to sleep every night for four years, and even after that I still held on to a tiny shred of hope that you’d find a way for us.” Her words split me right down the middle, and when I raise my hand to wipe away her tears, she snatches my wrist and pins it to the mattress behind my head. Her body leans over mine and my cock finds a new angle inside her.

“Your sacrifice broke me, Raoul,” she whispers into my ear.

She’s holding me down, making me drown in her pain, and despite the fact it would be easy to throw her off… I can’t because this is exactly what I deserve.

“Stop it,” I warn, my free hand gripping at her ass and trying to maintain some control as she continues to thrust onto me.

“You didn’t want a safe word,” she reminds me seductively.

I stare up at her and watch the way she looks at me, she needs this. This is her getting all that hurt inside of her out.

“I never got over you, I couldn’t hear your fucking name without wanting to cry. You put an agony inside me that’s burned for twelve fucking years. So ask yourself, Raoul, is my mom's boyfriend who used to touch me up, or my ex-boyfriend who put me on some cheap porn site really what I need protecting from?” Her hushed tone speaks against my skin and stabs into my chest.

“You don’t know how to love, Raoul Burlusconi.” She serves her finisher and I use the little strength I have left inside me to roll her onto her back, taking her hands and squeezing them between my fingers. I push inside her again, keeping my pace slow and my stare fixed on her eyes.

“Maybe you're right, maybe I don’t know how to love. But don’t think for one moment that I don’t know how to fucking suffer it.”

I push deeper, fury and hurt burning inside me at the same time. If I don’t know how to love, how is it possible for her to get to me in a way no one else ever could?

“So hate me, try and fight me, but know that anything I’ve ever done has been because it’s what I know is best for you.” I kiss her throat before my hand reaches between our bodies, and I flick her clit while I feed her my cock and coax her to come for me.

She tries to hold off, but she can’t deny her body's needs, and as her tight walls clamp around my cock it rushes me to find my own relief. I come hard, and loud, clutching at her skin as I try to ground myself.

We breathe together after I pull out of her, and when I flop back onto the mattress, I hear her words again in my head. They cut deeper, and the reality of them sting my wounds like salt.

I pull myself together and head straight for the bathroom so I can turn on the shower.

“Come here,” I say softly, leaning on the doorframe when I go back for her, and she does as I command, pulling her beautiful naked body out of bed and stepping closer to me.

“I’m sorry that you hurt, but you should know that I feel it too. I even hurt when I’m with you,” I tell her honestly. “And whether you love me or hate me, I will always protect you, there aren’t any limits. I’ll do whatever it fucking takes.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and when I lean down to kiss her, she pulls away.

“You just can’t call off a wedding,” she whispers sadly, before slamming the door in my face for a second time today.

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