Page 80 of Twisted Vows

My brain refuses to filter his words beyond his sexy, hungry rumble, but when he releases my tit and grabs my throat, awareness seeps back into me. The sounds leaking under the door remind me there are people nearby. I bite my bottom lip and swallow the whimper building in my throat. His massive hand forces my chin up as he compresses my jugular.

“Watch us,” he demands.

I mindlessly nod and gasp when he buries his face between my legs. He licks, sucks, and bites my pussy as though he’ll die if I don’t orgasm into his mouth. A millisecond before I explode, he shifts his hand from my throat to my lips, muffling my moan as he ruthlessly works me over the edge.

With my face and chest flushed, my breast red from his abuse as it hangs out of my bridal lingerie, and my knee hooked over his broad shoulder with his head between my legs, our reflection in the mirror is more erotic than most porn. As my core clenches around nothing, I whimper and twist my fingers in his hair, ruining his hairstyle, and forget how to breathe as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me.

“Mio Dio, you’re perfect.” He gives my pussy a parting kiss before dropping my foot to the ground and peeling my hand out of his hair as he rises.

I shake and fight for oxygen. He moves behind me, braces my other hand on the mirror, and pushes my panties down my thighs. When I shift to work them to my ankles, he growls and swats my ass. The sting is pure perfection. I groan and drop my head forward.

He kisses my shoulder as he yanks my hips backward and fits the head of his cock to my entrance. With my panties forcing my knees together, his slow, relentless invasion seems bigger than ever before.

I hiss and reach back to limit his inward thrust, but he grabs my wrist and pins it to the small of my back.

“Take me,mia caramellina. Take all of me,” he growls into my hair.

I do. I don’t know how, but I accept every inch of his cock into my pussy, wincing when he hits the sensitive spot deep inside me and hovering on the edge of a terrifying orgasm. Afraid I’ll come apart with the slightest shift, I pant, curl my fingers against the mirror, and stand as still as possible.

All my efforts go to waste when I meet Fiero’s eyes in our reflection. The wicked hunger and unyielding devotion emanating from his dark brown orbs unravels me.

With a curse, he covers my mouth with his palm and hammers into me, prolonging my orgasm and finding his own release after a few brutal thrusts.

He releases my wrist and wraps an arm around my waist before shuffling us forward and bracketing my forearm on the mirror with his much larger one. He nuzzles my temple before pressing the side of our faces together and digging his digits into my hip.

“Thank you, Emma.”

Confusion spears through me. Those are not the words I expected to hear.

“What? Why would you—”

“Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for marrying me. Thank you for being so fucking strong. I always thought having a family of my own was too dangerous, but with you as their mother, I know no one will touch our children. You’ll protect them as fiercely as I will.”

The damned lump returns, making it hard to swallow.

“You’re mine, Emma. I’ll never let you go,” he vows.

I reach back and bury my fist in his hair. With his cock lodged deep within me, his baby growing in my womb, and our hearts twisted together, I make a promise of my own.

“You’ve got it all wrong,mio marito. You’re mine. All mine.”

He groans and pulses inside me as he licks my temple.

“Mio Dio, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

A knock on the door shatters the bubble of intimacy around us. After a steadying breath, Fiero pulls out and drops to his knees behind me.

Aurora calls my name from the hallway. Fiero kneads my ass and pulls the globes apart for a better view as his seed seeps from my pussy.

“You’d better answer her,mia caramellina,” he murmurs.

His breath ghosts over the back of my thighs. I close my hands into fists on the mirror and stutter a response to Aurora.

Fiero snags a few tissues from the box on the counter, wipes the worst of the mess away, and tugs my panties back into place before cleaning and tucking himself back into his trousers.

After tossing the tissues into the larger bin in the bathroom, he fixes my bra, gathers me against his chest and scrambles my brain with a slow, drugging kiss.

“I’ll see you at the altar,mia caramellina.”

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