Page 87 of Broken

Savio

Skin and Bones - David Kushner

She looks at me with stars in her eyes.

She’s mad, bad, and likely dangerous to know, but as I shackle her, holding her in place so she can’t distract me, she feels like a gift from God Himself.

A mate.

“You are chimerical,” I rasp in Italian, tugging the handkerchief from her lips. “But effervescent. I feel your soul. Why can I feel it?” The latter is torn from me. Words poured to God, not to her.

But, like the quixotic pixie she is, she understands, breathing in perfect Italian, “Our souls were torn apart at birth, Savio. This is our rejoining.”

“No,mon ange,thisis our rejoining,” I rumble, reaching between us, eyes locked on hers, my dick in my hand as I press the tip to her slit.

When she tenses, it reminds me of her purity.

Shame fills me that I have no such gift to share with her, but her whimper has me retreating to rub her clitoris with my…

The words are like poison.

Dirty and filthy—they fill my mind with memories of the past. When this wasn’t a sin. When they were statements of love and adoration and hunger. Passion.Life.

I release a breath as she squirms, bucking into me so that every nudge collides with her clit.

My sex aches, pre-cum spurting from the tip, coating her in my seed. In me. The pearly liquid combines with her pussy juices, and I swallow down a groan at the sight.

I need to be inside her.

I needher.

“Oh, Savio, please, please, please! Ineedyou!”

Her plea is divine and I bathe in its majesty as, eyes closed, I find her entrance and begin the journey home.

“Is that what Heaven feels like?” I rasp, blurring languages, broken Italian and Frenglish somehow combining into six words that form a question.

“It has to be.” She sobs as her molten heat accepts the head of my cock.

The guttural groan that drifts from my lips is tormented.

She torments me.

Her wetness. Her tightness. Her generosity.

This gift.

For me.

She waited.

For me.

It’s madness. She is madness. But she is warmth and love and pure and?—

“Mon ange, I can’t…” I lean into her, resting my head against her chest. “You are temptation reborn.”

“I cannot tempt what was always mine. There is no sin between us,” she mewls. “Only love. We are meant to be, Savio. Can’t you feel it?”

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