Page 66 of The Broken Wolf's Redemption

“It sounds like a good time.”

She wished she could reach between them and grab his balls in a warning squeeze. Instead, she hung onto the table while he pretty much made good on his promise to fuck her across the room on it.

Despite how hard he drove into her, creating a vortex of liquid fire, the table really didn’t move that much. Things shook and the candles, plates, and cups threatened to drop off, the silverware made tinny echoing sounds, but nothing dropped to the ground. It was like some version of sex magic. Or science. Sex science.

Just as she was about to laugh at the absurd thought, Rome’s fingers curled into her ass cheeks on both sides. He drove into her, grinding down at the end so his balls slapped at her clit. It was feral and a little dirty and so Rome that nothing could have been more perfect.

She imagined that he could still taste the salt of himself. He’d licked her after, swallowed her juices down too. She was going to come on his cock and he’d come down her throat already. It was so filthy, that’s what finally pushed her into a white-hot orgasm.

It boomed through her like an earthquake, tearing her apart. Her muscles trembled and she cried out, her face pressed against the table because she didn’t have the strength to keep her head up. She shook and trembled, the waves battering her without mercy. They didn’t let up, probably because Rome kept driving into her, smashing her clit and filling her where she was sore from the climax. It was brutal and it hurt, but the pain curled up into her. She rode it out until it transformed into something sweet.

“Can I fill you up?” he growled behind her.

She could hear how important it was that he asked her permission. She’d told him she basically couldn’t get pregnant, but this was a sacred thing, and it was her body.

She loved that he did that. That he cared enough to respect her and her wishes. “Yes.”

“Until it’s dripping down your legs?”

“Until it’s dripping down my legs.” The thought of that shouldn’t be such a turn on, but it was. She wanted him to flood her.

“Until it makes a mess all over this floor?”

He palmed her ass hard, driving into her, flesh smacking against flesh, hitting his own hand, bruising her hipbones with the table.

He didn’t roar when he came. He didn’t freeze either. It was Rome. He always set his own precedent.

He kept pistoning inside her, and with each thrust, it got hotter and hotter. Wetter and wetter, until the sounds of him plunging in and out of her were a churning, sucking, messy, hot as ever living hell sound that echoed through the empty place.

It did drip down her legs. She was a sore, aching, throbbing mess on the verge of collapse when he finally slowed down and stilled. Thank goodness he held her up because she was beyond it at that point. She could barely feel her legs or any other part of her body. She could only feel the point where they were connected, him still so hard inside her.

They were quiet for a few tense minutes.

“I liked that,” she muttered, like she hadn’t.

Rome started shaking, the movement so strange that she had to whip her head around to see what was happening.

He was laughing silently. The way his face crinkled up, with his eyes scrunched close and real joy and light there, was the best thing she’d seen in such a long time.

He was beautiful in every way. It wasn’t unthinkable. Not the path they’d already walked, the way their lives twisted into one from two hard, painful split roads, the future that they’d design.

He’d made good on his promise. Her legs were sticky all the way down to her toes. But then, when had Rome not made good on the darkness?

She was good for her word too. Good for the light.

“Rome?”

“Hmm?” He caressed her back so very gently, splaying his fingers out and running them from her shoulder all the way down her spine. Her skin prickled wildly with the sensation.

“I’m starving. Were you actually planning on cooking? I don’t even smell anything.”

He laughed again, this the sound huge and booming. It surprised both of them. “We can order in. Anything you’d like.”

Epilogue

Rome

Six Months Later…

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