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The words were growled, but I heard the worry in them.
Given the impressive length and thickness of his dick, it would cause me discomfort, no matter how wet I was.
“I know.” I smiled softly, cupping his cheeks. Perhaps it was all the scars on him. They saddened me. Made me see him in a different light. “But I trust you with this.”
With my body.
Never my heart.
An emotion I couldn’t decipher crossed his face, and then he was covering me, his arms bracketing either side of my head. My exhales were his inhales and it was the most intimate thing I ever experienced.
“You want to be forgiven?” He wrapped my legs around his waist, massaging my thighs. “Tell me what I want to hear.”
He meant to ask who I belonged to.
My last resolve broke when his tip nudged over my entrance.
“Je suis àtoi.” My lips penned over his jaw, writing the sentence into his skin like poetry. “Et tu es à moi.”
The words rang with a scary finality.
“Now you’re forgiven. You belong to me,mon ange.” Zeno’s hand collared my throat. “Mind, body, and soul.”
There was no use prolonging the inevitable.
Zeno slammed all the way and claimed me the way we’d both been wanting to since we first met.
My back arched, my breasts grazed his chest, and my eyes watered again.
It hurt so much, I was robbed of any sound.
Zeno didn’t move, staying fully impaled inside of me. He was like a hot, searing brand. My walls clenched around him and he hissed, watching me with an intense expression when my tears wouldn’t cease to spill.
He wiped them with the softness of a feather, his knuckles shaking the slightest. “Does it hurt too much? Do you want to stop?” Zeno was tense above me, like holding back was physically aching him. He urged me to meet his stormy gaze. “Talk to me, Darla.”
A myriad of emotions barrelled through me. The elation of being joined together dulled the pain, but my head was still lost in a sea of questions and revelations. Only one thought was wrenched out of me as I looped my arms around his neck, my body quavering under his. “W-Why didn’t you wear my pin?”
Just like that, Zeno’s expression shattered and he emitted a low, strangled noise as he pressed his forehead to mine. His heart beat madly. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, caressing my cheek. “So sorry, baby.”
Zeno was sorry for hurting me, toying with me, but never for stealing me away.
I was his favourite sin.
Surrendering to him and this unfathomable connection, I snapped my hips in response. His hand dropped to where we were joined, thumb rubbing my clit to assuage the remnant pain of having him inside of me. “It’s okay. Please, move. I want to feel you.”
“Je t’en prie.”He pushed aside a lock of my hair and gazed down at me in rapture.“Let me kiss you.”
He never begged, yet he bent another rule for me, inadvertently proving just how much power I held over him.
“Yes.” I nodded through my drying tears and he smashed his lips to mine.
We kissed almost violently, our mouths coming together like crashing waves. Zeno’s fists curled in my hair like I was his anchor at sea, keeping him from drifting away. My own fingers trickled over his back, feeling mangled skin, and I tried to comfort him with my touch.
Manacling my wrists above my head, Zeno pulled out until it was just his tip inside of me. I gasped from the sense of loss and he gauged my expression with seriousness before pushing in again.
I suddenly screamed.
He swallowed the sound with another dirty kiss.
