Page 85 of The Don's Soulmate

“I was only just getting started,” I grin.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he snarls, pulling me up by my hand now.

His hands tighten around my waist, lifting me up against his chest. I wrap my legs around him instinctively, our bodies pressed together.

Ettore walks us backward until my back hits the wall, pinning me in place. His mouth descends again, tongue plunging past my lips to mate with mine. I moan into the kiss, desire rippling through me in molten waves.

With slow deliberation, his hands slide under my nightdress, fingers splaying across my bare skin. He swallows my gasp, deepening the kiss as his hands explore my curves, stroking and squeezing my ass, my breasts, and the curve of my back in a possessive caress.

I am on fire for him, my inner muscles clenching with need. Ettore growls against my mouth, hips grinding into mine. The hard ridge of his arousal nudges between my legs, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core.

My hands fist in his hair, dragging his head back to break the kiss. Our harsh breaths mingle as we stare at each other, eyes dark and hungry.

"Ettore," I pant, barely recognizing my voice. He watches me through heavy-lidded eyes, waiting. I lick my lips, tasting him in my mouth. "I need you."

Those three words shatter the last vestiges of his control. With a snarl, Ettore secures his arms around my waist and pushes away from the wall. I cling to him as he carries me across the room, tossing me onto the bed.

I have only a moment to catch my breath while he strips off his shirt to reveal his sculpted torso. Then he is on me.

He crawls over me, pinning my wrists above my head. The possessive glint in his eyes makes me whimper. I'm helpless before him, and it's intoxicating.

"I'm going to ruin you," he promises, nipping at my throat.

"Yes," I moan, arching into him. "Ruin me."

Ettore releases my wrists only to grip the hem of my night dress, tearing the delicate fabric apart. I gasp at the sound, breaths coming faster as he exposes my naked body to his heated gaze.

"So beautiful," he rasps, cupping my breasts. His thumbs brush over my nipples, rolling and pinching the sensitive buds. I cry out at the pleasure-pain, desire coiling tight within me.

Ettore lowers his head, wrapping his lips around one nipple. He suckles strongly, grazing the peak with his teeth, while his other hand continues its sensual assault on my other breast.

I fist my hands in his hair, pressing him closer. He switches to lavish attention on my other breast, leaving the first wet and swollen. His name falls from my lips like a prayer.

Releasing my breasts with a lewd pop, Ettore lifts his head. His eyes seem almost black with lust as he stares down at me. "I'm going to mark every inch of you," he vows, lips curling into a predatory smile.

Before I can respond, his mouth descends to my throat, sucking hard at my pulse point. I cry out in a burst of pleasure, nails digging into his shoulders. Ettore growls against my skin but doesn't stop, intent on leaving his mark.

He moves lower, mapping my collarbones and chest with his lips and teeth, branding me with the heat of his desire. I'm writhing beneath him, aching to be filled, but he won't be rushed.

Ettore wants to claim me utterly first. And I have no objections.

Ettore lifts his head, eyes burning into mine. I see the question in their depths and nod fervently. With a savage grin, he captures my wrists and pins them above my head. I tug experimentally at his grip, but he holds firm.

"Stay," he commands, voice rough with lust.

I swallow hard, my heartbeat quickening. Ettore releases my hands to retrieve something from the floor. A moment later, the cool slide of fabric wraps around my wrists--his shirt, binding me in place.

Helpless and exposed, I can only watch through half-lidded eyes, his body sculpted to perfection, scars accentuating lean muscle.

I strain against my bonds, aching to touch him. Ettore clicks his tongue, trailing a finger down my cheek. "Patience, tesoro."

He kisses a path down my torso, leaving goosebumps in his wake, hands spreading my thighs wide. I gasp as his mouth finds the landing of my pussy, clever tongue stroking over sensitive flesh. The pleasure builds swiftly, my back arching off the bed as I race toward release.

Just before I tumble over the edge, Ettore pulls away. I cry out in protest, trying to buck my hips closer. He pins me easily, eyes gleaming. "Not yet, Carlotta. I want you desperate and begging for me."

I thrash against the shirt, binding my hands, needing to touch him, but the knots only tighten. Ettore watches my struggles with dark satisfaction, idly stroking himself.

When I still, chest heaving, he moves over me again. The thick head of his cock nudges at my entrance, teasing. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him onward.

---