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He immediately stops. “Sorry, angel.” He nuzzles his mouth against my jaw.
“No, don’t stop. I like the way you touch me.”
“Come here.” He walks us both backward until we hit the bed and tumble to the springy mattress. After he pushes me to my back, his mouth descends on mine. The tenderness vanishes as raw hunger takes over. I tear his shirt off over his head. He knees my thighs apart. I unbutton his pants. He pulls off my panties. We are a wild tangle of lips and hands and melding bodies. I stroke my hands over his hard muscles, greedily touching everywhere I can—the bulging muscles of his arms, the ridges of his abdominals, the hard curve of his ass. He shucks his pants and slides into me unsheathed, his teeth sinking into the flesh of my neck.
I arch to take him deeper. “Yes.”
“Yes,” he echoes. He rocks into me with powerful surges. “Mine.” He braces my shoulder to keep my head from hitting the headboard, but strokes my cheek with his thumb, a shred of tenderness still there. “You’re mine now.”
My lids flutter with the effort of keeping my eyes from rolling back with pleasure, but I lock my gaze with his. “I was yours from the beginning,” I confess.
It’s true. He didn’t need to kidnap me and hold me captive. I would’ve gone with him anywhere. He had me with the first commanding touch.
“I love you,” I tell him, never having to hold back those words again. He must know, though, because I’m incapable of hiding feelings.
Armando throws his head back, almost like he’s in pain. He bares his teeth and roars, slamming into me hard, harder.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Please.”
Armando stills, his face taut with strain, his hands gouging my hips into the mattress as his cock swells inside me. He groans, his head falling forward, his arms coming around me to keep me close. “I love you,” he whispers.
He thrusts deeper, and I gasp, loving the feeling of his enormous cock filling me to the brim and aching with need for more.
I lift my hand to stroke his cheek. His eyes close as he leans into my touch and kisses my palm.
“Forever mine,” he whispers.
My heart swells.
He thrusts his cock even deeper. A tear leaks out of the corner of my eye, and Armando licks it away.
“Forever,” I whisper.
“And always,” he says, his thrusts slow and deep and perfect.
His cock throbs, the girth increases, and the heat intensifies.
The pleasure is so intense I can barely breathe. I’m being consumed. Consumed by his unending love. Is this solely my feelings, or am I also feeling his?
“Oh, Armando,” I moan, the ecstasy so intense it feels like pain.
He moves faster, his cock slamming into me with such fervor I cry out. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I can feel every ounce of raw, unadulterated emotion that courses through his body. It’s like I can feel every emotion he has ever felt in his lifetime.
I can feel every old wound he has suffered, every time someone he cared about hurt him, every time someone he trusted betrayed him. I can feel everything inside this man.
His fingers dig into the tender flesh of my hips, and he slams into me once more.
“Jesus, you feel so fucking good,” he declares as he pounds into me. His lips move to my neck, and he nips at my throat.
I feel every inch of him inside me, and I want nothing more than to relish this feeling. I know that this moment is fleeting, but I want it to stay with me. I’m falling into oblivion. I’m not sure what I’m falling into, but I know this is peaceful. This is how I want to forever feel in this world. Nothing can touch me. Nothing can hurt me. Nothing can make me feel this good.
My lips touch his, his body trembles against me, and I feel his soul in my soul. My legs begin to tremble, my toes curling as I scream out. I’m so close. So damn close.
“Oh Christ, now, Hannah—come now,” he shouts and plunges deep, filling me with his hot essence.
Because he does command my body, it responds immediately, the walls of my channel clenching and squeezing around his cock in the most satisfying—emotionally and physically—orgasm of my life.
Armando slows his rocking and showers kisses on my cheeks, eyelids, across the bridge of my nose. “I love you, beautiful girl.”
“I love you, too,” I croak, fighting my way back from the other galaxy where I’d been shot by my pleasure. I wrap my legs around his back and pull his hips in even tighter. “So much.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Armando
The scent of dirt, metal and blood hits my nose the minute I’m let into the warehouse.
It’s three in the goddamn morning. I had to leave Hannah in my bed for this, which nearly killed me. But the don called me himself and told me to get down here. And when the don calls, you come. No questions. No complaints.
