54. Antonio

When we get back to the house after Edward’s funeral, I go directly to my office to plan my next move with Cristiano and Lucas, and Daniela spends the rest of the evening helping Valentina with a school project.

By the time I climb into bed, she’s almost asleep. But I reach for her, like I do most nights. Although tonight, there’s a greater urgency.

I sweep the hair of her neck and trail kisses over the smooth skin.

While she moans, softly, I hook a finger into a flimsy nightgown strap. “If you’d like to wear this again, you better take it off quickly.” It’s not so much a suggestion as a warning. My patience for anything that blocks me from her is razor-thin tonight.

She rolls onto her back and cradles my jaw, searching my eyes for demons to be exorcised.

They’re there, Princesa. Do you see them? They’ve come to play tonight.

I tug at her nightgown, and she swats my hands away.

“It’s my favorite. Don’t tear it,” she chides, sliding the thin fabric over her head, exposing her gorgeous tits to me.

I grab the nightgown from her hands and toss it in the direction of the bench at the foot of the bed.

“I want you right here,” I murmur, pulling her with me as I roll onto my back.

She squirms on my hard cock seated between us.

“I love you,” she whispers, with her fingertips pressed to my unshaven jaw.

“I don’t deserve your love, Princesa. You could do so much better than a man like me.”

She hates when I say it, and squirms on my dick again to distract me from my worst impulses. This time I don’t let her get away with it.

Ouch! She jerks, when my palm comes down on her ass.

“Stop squirming, unless you want more.” Her eyes glitter at the threat, but it’s not what I want tonight.

I slide my hand through the silky hair at her nape, cupping her head, and own her mouth. My tongue explores roughly, rooting into every corner, tasting her sweetness, until I’ve stolen all her breath.

“You’re mine,” I claim, without apology. “It doesn’t matter what happens. The whole fucking world can come tumbling down, and you’ll still be mine. Always.”

I tug her hair back, forcing her eyes to meet mine.

“Say it,” I demand. “I want to hear you say it.”

She gazes at me, eyes wide, gauging my mood. Something about it scares her. It scares me, too.

“Say it, Princesa.”

“I’m yours. Always. And you’re mine. Always,” she vows, without flinching. “Even if the world comes tumbling down.”

It’s a promise I will hold her to.

I find her mouth again, rougher than the last time. I delve deeper, sealing the promise with an intensity that no one would dare challenge. She’s mine.

When she can’t breathe, she pulls back. “What has you like this?”

“You. You have me like this.” And I can’t make it stop.

I grasp her thighs, pulling her up, until she’s astride my hips, on her knees. “Ride me. Ride me until you ache.”

Before she can move, I wrench myself into a seated position and ease her legs around my hips. I slide my mouth over her throat. She shudders as I sample her sweet skin.

When I can’t wait another goddamn second to have her, I slip my hand between us to check if she’s ready—although I already know. I smell her arousal.It wafts around us, scenting the air like a priceless perfume.

“Get on my cock, Princesa. Don’t make me wait.”

Daniela tips her chin, and with sultry eyes, she lifts her hips carefully and notches my eager cock at her entrance. Her movement is slow and deliberate, and she taunts me with her tits as she obeys.

What little patience I had evaporates.

“You’re teasing me. You need to be taught a lesson,” I rasp, digging my fingers into her hips and sheathing myself with her wet cunt. It’s a long, brutal slide, and she cries out at the intrusion.

I force myself to still, pulling her to my pounding heart.

“I want to ride you.”

“Oh, you will, Princesa. You’re going to ride me so long and so hard you’ll remember it for a week. But first, let me enjoy you, like this,” I whisper in her hair. “I want to feel your snug walls hug my cock.”

She clenches her pelvis, and my cock jerks. She does it again. And again. Until I’m struggling to control myself.

“Take what you want. Go ahead,” I urge, holding her hips firmly and guiding her movements so that it’s a slow, steady climb to pleasure.

I feed off her mouth as she rocks her hips.

Normally we devour each other, but not tonight. Tonight, I’m consuming her. Bit by bit. Every kiss, every thrust, every zing of her pleasure is my obsession.

I pin her wrists at the base of her spine, forcing an arch in her back. She moans as I draw a nipple into my mouth, and as I suck, her movements become jerkier, desperate.

She’s riding me hard. But I’m in complete control. I take, and take, and take, wrenching one orgasm from her after another.

Before the night’s over, there is no inch of her body that I haven’t enjoyed.

My limbs ache and my body protests, but I demand one last orgasm from her. From me.

She cries as she shatters. The sheer intensity of our fucking bleeds its way out in tears. For long moments, I catch the droplets on my tongue, because like her, they belong to me.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I tell her while I hold her against my chest. “In the short time we’ve had together, you’ve given me more than I ever dreamed possible.”

She presses her fingertip to my lips. “Don’t talk like that. We’re young. We have so much time left to love each other.”

I hold her while she falls asleep. But I can’t sleep. My conscience is screaming. You’re a selfish monster. I am.

I demanded everything from her tonight. I allowed intimacy to drift in and shroud us in its warm, comfortable arms. I took all she had to give—mind, body, heart, and soul—knowing full well that it would make tomorrow harder for her—and for me.

Because when the sun peeks over the horizon, it will be a new day.