Page 85 of Coerced Wife

Satisfaction sparks in his eyes. “I like the sound of that. It suits you.”

“I beg to differ.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he says in a husky voice, brushing his lips over mine. “In time, it’ll grow on you.”

“In your dreams.”

“Are you always going to make me work this hard for you?”

“I didn’t choose you, Saverio.”

He kisses me again, softly, and delivers a solemn promise that dooms me to my fate. “No,tesoro, but you will. In two months, youwillsay yes.”

“Saverio,” I say, uttering the protest as he lowers his head to kiss my neck.

“But this…” He nips the tender skin before sucking, no doubt leaving another mark on me. “This, you want.”

I can’t argue the fact when he slides a hand between my legs. My body is eager for his touch while my mind is eager to forget, and nothing makes me forget like his hands on my naked skin.

He traces my slit with a thumb through the cotton fabric of my leggings. “You’re wet.”

There’s no point in denying it. I grew accustomed to his touch. If he doesn’t fuck me at least once a day, I’m like an addict who suffers from withdrawal symptoms.

He rubs circles around my clit before cupping my sex with enough force to lift me onto my toes. I cling to his shoulders for balance as he lets me down and works the leggings with my underwear over my thighs. He goes down on his haunches and frees my feet before dragging a palm up the inside of my leg as he straightens.

When he pulls off his sweater to expose his chiseled chest, I remove mine too. He unclasps the bra at my back while I unbuckle his belt. All the while, we stare into each other’s eyes with a hunger that consumes.

His breathing quickens as he pushes the straps off my shoulders with a finger. He’s tender when he weighs my breasts in his palm.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he says, bending down to place a gentle kiss on my stomach. “I wish I could make you pregnant. I want that more than anything in the world.”

His melancholic words move me to wrap my arms around his neck when he straightens. My nipples brush over the hard expanse of his chest, the light friction hardening the tips. He unzips with a hurried movement and shoves his jeans and briefs down to free his cock.

Without warning, he bends his knees and enters me.

“I want you like this,” he says against my lips. “All the fucking time.”

At least that’s one thing we agree on.

His grunts as he spears into me are savage, but his thrusts are controlled. He’s careful not to hurt me.

My stomach is already big enough to get in the way, hampering his movements a little.

He kisses me deeply, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth before giving it a nip. His voice is pure seduction when he orders, “Turn around.”

He pulls out and gives me space to move.

I turn in his arms.

He takes my wrists and places my hands on the edge of the counter. Supporting my stomach with one arm wrapped around me, he pushes in from behind. I moan as he stretches me, arching my back and rubbing against him when he hits that sweet spot deep inside.

He fucks me with a leisurely pace, driving me higher too slowly.

When he leaves me empty, I strain my neck to look over my shoulder. He spits in his palm and lubricates the broad crest of his cock.

My pulse picks up. Anticipation tightens my muscles.

He grabs the root of his cock and positions the head at my dark entrance. Holding me close, he applies steady pressure until the tight ring of muscles gives and my body yields to the invasion. The burn stings. The pain flares when he moves, but I push back, taking more.

---