Page 93 of Theirs to Rule

With a mischievous grin, I reached down and unbuckled his pants, then tucked my hand inside his boxers to free his cock. It sprang out, hard and ready for me. I leaned down and kissed him, grinding my hips against his dick.

“Can I ride you?” I asked, biting my lip. I didn’t even care that we were outside, in the middle of someone else’s private gardens, or that someone might see us. If anything, that added to the excitement.

“You can do whatever the fuck you want to me,” he murmured. "But first..." He pulled a condom out of his pocket and put it on. Earlier, I’d made an appointment with the doctor to get on the pill. I couldn’t help but think about Dante fucking me bare, like Kage had. It felt good, Kage being inside me flesh to flesh.

Slipping my panties aside, I angled myself over his cock then eased myself down. He groaned, gripping my hips and driving me down hard on his length. I gasped as my pussy swallowed him, contracting around his thick cock.

My hands around his neck, I gently rocked myself back and forth, riding his cock. With a groan, Dante grabbed my hips, lifted me up, then slammed me down on his length, pushing himself deeper inside me. I screamed in pleasure, his use of force both unexpected and welcome.

“Fuck baby, your pussy is so tight,” Dante hissed in my ear.

He spread my legs apart, causing me to sink down harder on him. He groaned and arched his back, pumping his hips in rhythm with mine. His lips found mine in a desperate, searching kiss. I whimpered, savoring his taste as he thrust deeper, the friction of his shaft rubbing against my clit, making pleasure twist inside me. I let out a strangled cry, clenching around his cock as my orgasm overtook me.

“Come for me, Peaches. Come all over my cock like a good fucking girl,” he ordered. His voice, deep and throaty, was far removed from the soft, gentle man I’d known all this time—and the sound of it was all it took to push me over the edge.

Ecstasy rushed through me, pulsating through my veins. Nothing else mattered in that moment but Dante and me. I kissed him, biting down on his lip as I rode out the last of my climax. Both of our bodies glistened with sweat as we collapsed on the blanket, entangled in each other’s arms.

Dante smiled down at me, his fingers stroking my cheek. I smiled back and snuggled against him, enjoying the rawness of the moment we’d just shared.

“Can I say it again?” he murmured, kissing me softly on the lips.

“Yes,” I nodded, unable to keep the smile from my face. "Please, do."

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear as he gazed into my eyes.

“I love you, sweetheart. I always will."

Chapter 41

Camille

Ifidgeted nervously as I waited for Ty to strip. It had been three days since Dante told me he loved me. Ty had returned yesterday but hadn't said a word about where he'd been. He'd kept to himself until this morning when he'd cooked breakfast for me and Kage, then told me he wanted to do our next drawing session.

Anticipation mixed with discomfort as he stood before me, preparing to undress so I could draw him. When he was naked, my initial reaction was a jolt of pure desire that coursed through me. But that quickly gave way to shock as I took in the extent of his scars. I had seen some of them before, but never like this. Never so exposed, so raw. He stood there, a living canvas of pain and survival. Written across his chest and sliding down his torso to his legs, there hardly seemed to be an inch of him that was untouched by them.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.

"Are you going to start?"

"Yeah, sorry," I muttered.

I picked up my pencil, trying to focus on the task at hand, but my eyes kept drifting back to his scars. It was impossible not to; they demanded attention, each one evidence of a history I only knew fragments about. Some looked like burn marks, while others were fresher, pinker, and more pronounced against his skin.

As I sketched, the atmosphere between us. The silence was heavy, filled only with the sound of my pencil moving over the paper, capturing the complexity of his body, the strength, and the vulnerability.

My hand trembled as I reached one of the fresher scars, the ones that looked raw, like they had been inflicted only recently. Who had hurt him? I couldn’t imagine someone getting that close to Ty to wound him, which left me with the horrible thought that he’d hurt himself. A lump formed in my throat, my heart aching for him. It was one thing to know of someone's pain in the abstract, totally different to see its physical manifestation so clearly etched on their body.

“Your scars,” I whispered. “Do you hurt yourself?”

Ty shrugged, not quite meeting my gaze.

“Why?”

“I told you, Camille. I like pain. Mine and others."

Putting down my pencil, I moved toward him. He stiffened as I neared, like having me close was triggering something inside him. Hesitantly, giving him time to stop me, I reached out and touched one of the scars, running my finger over its jagged, uneven edges.

The fact that he didn’t pull away meant everything to me. I felt the tension in his body, the way he braced himself, but he still allowed me this moment. Without thinking, I leaned closer to him and pressed my lips against the scar that ran from the side of his hip around his pectoral muscle and over his shoulder.

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