Page 145 of Merciless Queen

His fist tightens in my hair, a stinging pain radiating over my scalp.

“What?”

“Ti amo.”

Thrust.

His fingers dig into my thigh.

“Sei dentro di me.”

Thrust.

“Non voglio lasciarti andare.”

Thrust.

“Perché mi fai soffrire?”

Thrust.

Whatever he’s saying rolls over my neck and down my chest. He isn’t offering up the translations, and I’m too mindless, boneless, to ask as a delicious warmth spreads through my body. All I can do is grip the balcony as tight as possible while Zeno works me to his pleasure.

This won’t take me long, and based on his own sounds, it won’t take him long either. Then it’ll be over.

We’llbe over.

His speed increases, his thrusts quickening. The grip on my hair tightens until I’d believe he could pull strands out.

It feels like he’s punishing me in the only way he can. He’s not gentle like how he was on the couch, kissing and lickingme tenderly. This isn’t a moment for flowery words or pretty sentiments, but rather possessive desires and broken vows. He’s punishing me for not chasing this, for being able to let him go.

“Zeno,” I sigh.

“Say my fucking name, Vanessa.”

His speed picks up and I lift onto my toes, trying to match his pace.

“When you come, you better fucking say my name. You better know whose cock you’re riding.” Pause. “Who you own.”

“Who you own.”There wasn’t possession in that statement. Nothing claiming that I’m his, but rather, his own submission. An offer for me to take him.

“Zeno.”

“Sì, mia regina?”

“Break me.”

His teeth graze my shoulder, threatening to bite me in a place his claim would be seen by all. “You were never a broken queen, Vanessa. It was a stupid nickname. You’re too strong to be broken by anyone.”

His cock teases just the right angle, my orgasm building until it’s all I can focus on. He could ask me for anything right now, and I’d agree, my mind no longer present. My stomach clenches, and still, I fight the sensation.

“Come, Vanessa. I feel you. You want to. You’re holding back.”

I’m holding back so this doesn’t end.But his command strikes through me, and I have no choice but to orgasm. With his hand fisted in my hair, his other one holding me immobile, I come screaming his name in the club where our lives first intersected.

Zeno drops his forehead to my shoulder as he too shudders through his own release, his warmth coating the deepest parts of me.

The orgasm ends much too soon.

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