Page 80 of Marriage of Revenge

The trust in her eyes nearly undoes me. But when I drop to my knees, letting water cascade over us both, she forgets about being sorry. My tongue traces her folds, learning what makes her gasp, what makes those perfect thighs tremble. Every lick, every suck is calculated to drive her wild, to prove her body can still sing under the right touch.

"Oh god, Tonio." My name on her lips sounds like salvation and sin mixed together. Her hands find my hair, fingers tangling tight enough to sting, and fuck if that doesn't make me harder. Every moan echoing off tile walls feeds something primal in me - the need to claim, to mark, to make her forget anyone else exists.

I'm lost in her responses, in how she yields to pleasure despite her fears. When I reach for the lube, coating my fingers thoroughly, her breath catches. "Are you begging for more, Bell'cenda?" I growl against her clit, sliding one finger inside while my tongue keeps working. She's tight, so fucking tight, but the way she moans tells me it's good. When I add a second finger, her head falls back, water running down her throat, and christ - watching her come apart like this? Worth every scar, every battle, every moment of wanting.

I'll make her forget every doctor's warning, every limit they tried to put on her pleasure. Make her remember her body belongs to her.

And now to me.

Her whole body shakes against me, thighs trembling as she grips my shoulders like I'm her only anchor. Something primal roars to life watching her come undone - those perfect tits heaving with each gasp, head thrown back against tile, water running down curves I want to mark with my teeth. When shecomes, it's fucking beautiful - back arching off the wall, pussy clenching around my fingers, my name torn from her throat like she's breaking and becoming at once.

I rise slowly, letting my body drag against hers, wet skin on wet skin. My cock throbs against her stomach, reminding us both what comes next. My mouth finds her throat, tasting her racing pulse, breathing in honeysuckle and need. Christ, watching her shatter like this? Makes the Beast want to claim every inch, mark her so deeply she'll never forget who made her feel this way.

"We're just getting started, Bell'cenda," I growl against her neck, shutting off the water. When I lift her, her legs wrap around my waist instinctively, and fuck - feeling her wet core pressed against my abs nearly breaks my control. I grab the lube - because I'm going to take care of her, make sure she's ready for every inch of me. "Can't wait to feel that tight pussy stretch around my cock. Going to claim you so thoroughly you'll feel me for days."

Tonight I'll give her everything she needs. Be gentle when she needs gentle, rough when she begs for more. Make her forget about scars and schemes and survival.

Tonight I’m going to be her hero. Even if tomorrow I have to be her Beast.

CHAPTER 41—ISABELLA

More? My body's stillhumming from an orgasm that rolled through me like waves - deeper, stronger than anything I've managed with that vibrator Naomi gave me after my transplant "to celebrate six months of freedom." Every nerve ending feels raw, exposed, alive in ways treatment tried to steal. It's like that perfect moment on stage when music becomes movement becomes pure feeling - except this? This is something else entirely. Something that makes dance highs feel hollow in comparison.

My face burns remembering how I lost control under his tongue - how the first sure touch sent electricity shooting through me, how each slow lick built pressure I didn't know my body could feel. The way he held my hips when my legs threatened to give out, how the vibrations of his growls against my most sensitive flesh made me see stars. And watching Antonio on his knees, using that talented mouth to make me forget everything but pleasure? The raw power of him, the wayhe seemed to know exactly how to touch me, when to be gentle, when to demand more...

He carries me to bed like I weigh nothing - not gentle like some fairy tale prince, but possessive as the Beast claiming his prize. The moment my back hits silk sheets, his mouth claims mine again, demanding and deep. Like he knows I'm starting to think too much, starting to remember all the reasons this is dangerous. His kiss drowns out every whisper of doubt, replacing thought with pure sensation.

"I want to..." The words die in my throat as his lips trail fire down my neck. His stubble scrapes deliciously against sensitive skin, sending shivers through me like aftershocks. When he finds that spot behind my ear - the same one he tortured before he was between my thighs, before he made me experience things I never knew my body could feel... Oh.

Want burns through me stronger than before, need coiling low in my belly. And isn't that just perfect? The Beast hasn't even properly claimed me yet, and I'm already desperate for more of his touch.

How does he have so many hands? I'm drowning in sensation - melting and tensing and falling apart all at once, every nerve ending singing under his touch.

"Want to taste my cock, Bell'cenda?" His growl vibrates against my ear, dark and hungry. Words fail me, so I just nod, desperate for everything he's offering.

He stills for a heartbeat, like he's fighting for control. My hand finds him - velvet-soft skin over steel, so thick my fingers barely meet around him. The way he throbs against my palm sends heat pooling low in my belly.

I'm soaked - not just from the lubricant he's been using with devastating skill, but from pure need. Everything he's done so far has been pleasure without pain, awakening parts of me I thought treatment had killed.

Then his finger circles my clit just right and oh god - my eyes roll back as I learn a whole new choreography of desire. One I never want to forget.

"Think you can take all of me? Be my good girl?" The way he growls those words ignites something primal inside me. It's not just what he says - it's the darkness in his voice, the promise of pleasure wrapped in possession.

I nod, barely breathing. "That's my wife," he growls, and reality crashes through me with each thundering heartbeat. His wife. His. This isn't just desperate touches and burning need anymore - it's permanent as the scars we both wear. After tonight, no one could claim this marriage wasn't real. Not with how thoroughly, how deeply he plans to claim every inch of me.

He stretches out beside me, all lethal grace and coiled power, and I take my time learning him with my mouth. My lips trace every dip and valley of muscle, tongue tasting salt and man and need. Each scar, each burn only makes me want him more - proof of survival written in flesh. But when I reach his cock, thick and hard and already leaking for me, anticipation coils hot in my belly.

My tongue maps him slow - base to tip, tasting that first drop of precum, feeling him pulse against my mouth. The sound he makes - half growl, half desperate groan - shoots straight between my legs. His hand finds my hair, not forcing, just guiding. Possessive but gentle, like he's trying not to break his new toy.

This is nothing like I imagined - the Beast of Naples coming undone under my tongue. His cock stretches my lips wide, heavy and hot and demanding more. I want to wreck him like he's wrecked me. Want to make him lose control. I take him deeper, then slide back torturously slow, learning what makes him growl, what makes his fingers tighten in my hair.

I glance up through my lashes, need making me bold. "Good?"

His eyes lock onto mine, dark with hunger. "Cristo, Bell'cenda." The growl in his voice makes heat pool low in my belly. "Mia Cara. Your mouth is sin itself. Could lose myself in you for hours." His thumb traces my bottom lip, and the praise in his voice, the way he looks at like he sees me, all of me - it makes my pulse race faster than any performance ever did.

I get bolder with my hands, exploring him until Italian curses spill from his lips. Suddenly he's hauling me up, and the raw need in his eyes steals my breath. "Need to be inside you," he growls, voice wrecked in a way that sends electricity down my spine. "If you keep touching me like that, I won't have any control left. And I need control for this, Bell'cenda."

Every muscle in his body is tensed like a predator ready to strike. But it's not just desire burning in those eyes - there's something deeper, something that makes my heart perform its own dangerous dance. The way he looks at me... like he wants to consume more than just my body.

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