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I smile.
It’s a smile filled with pride because this woman always shocks me at every turn. This woman will never let me get away with anything, always keeping the scales even, and I fucking love it.
How anyone could ever look at her and see a meek, breakable thing is beyond me. How anyone could see her and not think she could hold her own, not think that if you betray her, she’ll cut your head off is unthinkable.
She is made of unbreakable diamonds, her only weakness being herself.
The only thing that can tear Delilah down is the doubt that quietly hides in her.
And I’ll work to remove every last bit of that doubt for the rest of my damned life.
So I tell her what she wants to hear, and I tell her the truth.
“Only you, fiorella.”
Because from here on out, Angela Sigano will no longer touch me.
No one will touch me but my wife.
My siren told me her demands and I’ll do anything to make her happy.
I move the hand on her hip in, my thumb hitting her clit, and instantly, her back arches off the bed as she moans, clamping down on me.
But her eyes stay locked to mine.
Always.
“Now be a good fucking girl and come for your man,” I say, moving to sit on my heels and pulling her by the hips until she sits up and is in my lap, seated on my thighs. The moan that falls from her lips tells me that she’s close as it is, which is fine by me—we have a lot of making up to do anyway. This round can be quick.
“I wanna make it last,” she says with a lie, my little siren always ready to play. I nip at her bottom lip, lifting her by the hips and slamming her back down onto my cock, filling her deep.
“Make it last next time, baby. Need you to come on me right now.”
“No,” she moans, and god, this women will be the death of me.
Completely and totally.
“Delilah, come right fucking now,” I say, lifting and slamming her once again, and this time, when she’s full, she grinds her clit, rubbing against my pelvic bone. She moans loud as she does, her eyes fighting to drift shut.
There she is.
“No, it’s been so long, Dante.” Another moan. “I want it to last.”
I wonder in that moment if she’ll ever do as I ask.
If she’ll ever stop fighting me on every single move I make.
I really hope not.
Because then I can’t fight back.
“Fine, then I’ll make you,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to hold back my own orgasm as she clamps down again, my balls tightening and my cock throbbing near painfully.
I haven’t even jacked off except for that one time in her shower since she cut me off, the need just building and building, waiting for one of us to just give the fuck in.
I lift her one last time, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other around her shoulder so when I slam her down, I force myself even deeper then move, grinding her against my pelvis and listening as her breathing increases, a small squeal coming from her throat, but she holds tight, refusing.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Delilah, come on my fucking cock,” I say, pressing my hips up, grinding her down, and moving a hand out to slap her ass.
