I drop to my knees, my hands trailing down her body, my fingers digging into her thighs as I pull her legs apart. Her panties are soaked, the fabric clinging to her, and I yank them down roughly, biting her thighs, leaving beautiful bruises that will remind her of this night for days ahead.
She gasps, her hands flying to my shoulders, her body shuddering at the first touch of my tongue. I devour her, my tongue against her clit, flicking, circling, tasting her arousal. I grip her thighs, forcing them open wider, my lips sucking, my teeth nipping, every sound she makes driving me crazy with need.
She moans, her hips bucking forward, and I growl against her, the vibration making her whimper, her fingers tightening in my hair. I lick lower, parting her with my mouth, thrusting inside her, tasting her from the inside, the slickness of her coating my lips, my chin. I look up to see her head thrown back, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes flutter open, her gaze dropping to mine, wide and glassy, her thighs trembling under my hands. I thrust my tongue deeper, my nose pressed against her clit, her scent filling my senses, her taste driving me to the edge of control.
She cries out, her hips grinding against my face, her body desperate, and I let her ride me, let her take what she needs. I push two fingers inside her, curling them, feeling her tighten around me, my mouth sucking on her clit. She’s so close, her moans turning into gasps.
But I don’t let her finish. Just as her body tenses, I pull away, and stand up.
“Wh-what? No! Wren!”
I ignore her protests, and roughly spin her. Her hands slap against the wall before her face hits it, and I kick her legs apart.
Tangling my hand into her hair, I pull her head back, my lipsbrushing her ear.
“This is the price of truth, Ballerina.” I position my dick against her pussy. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”
“Yes … now … please.”
“I know this is your first time, but I can’t go slow. I can’t promise it won’t hurt.” I bite her shoulder, then lick the sting away. “I can’t promise I won’t enjoy it if you cry.”
I thrust into her, hard, and she cries out, her body jerking, her hands slipping on the wall. I don’t give her a chance to catch her breath, pulling out and then slamming back in, the force of it pushing her forward, her cheek pressing against the cold wall.
She’s so fucking tight around me, squeezing me, and I groan. Every thrust is rough, demanding, my need for her consuming me. My fingers digging into her skin, holding her in place as I pound into her, her body arching, desperate whimpers falling from her lips.
“Your father tried to protect you.” My voice is harsh, my breathing ragged. “But he couldn’t. Not from me. You’re not Ileana Moreno.” I slam into her, each word punctuated by the force of my thrusts. “You’re Isabella Rossi. And you’re fucking mine.”
She whimpers, her voice breaking, her fingers clawing at the wall. I pull her head back, my hand wrapping around her throat, squeezing hard enough to trap her breath, as her body convulses around me.
“Say it,” I whisper, my voice dripping with possession. “Say your name.”
“Ileana,” she gasps.
“No.” My fingers squeeze her throat harder. “Try again.”
“I-Isabella.”
“No.Mine.”
My thrusts turn erratic, the tension building, the edge so close, every nerve on fire. I pull her back, slamming into her, my body shaking, my release hitting me hard, spilling into her.
I hold her there, my forehead resting against her shoulder,our breaths mingling, our bodies pressed together, her warmth surrounding me. When I can see again, I slowly release her throat, my hand sliding down her chest, over her breasts, and comes to rest against her stomach.
I pull out of her slowly, and catch her before she falls, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her close. She’s breathless, her forehead resting against my chest, her fingers clutching weakly at my shirt.
“Look at me,” I whisper, my fingers tipping her chin up.
Her eyes are wide, tears clinging to her lashes, her lips swollen, and something tightens inside me.
She’s so fucking beautiful like this—completely undone, no longer invisible, and fucking all mine.
“You wanted the truth.” My thumb strokes over her lips. “And now you know. There’s no going back. You’re mine now.”
CHAPTER 55