Page 86 of Brutal Vows

“Yes,” I breathe, arching beneath him.

His hand cups my jaw, tilting my face up to his. “I won’t risk hurting you,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less firm. “Not yet.”

I groan in frustration, making him smirk.

“But,” he continues, brushing his lips over my temple, “when you’re healed?” His teeth graze my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine. “You won’t walk for days,amore mio.”

Heat floods my body, my breath catching at the promise in his voice.

“Tease,” I mutter, glaring up at him.

He chuckles, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my lips before pulling away. “Call it payback for trying to seduce me while you’re still bruised.”

I huff, crossing my arms as he settles back against the couch, tugging me into his lap, but this time in a way that keeps me fromaccidentallyrubbing against him again.

I know when I’ve lost a battle.

But this war?

Oh, I’ll win.

I shift in his lap again, intentionally this time, dragging my nails down his chest. His breath shudders, but his grip on me tightens—not in desire, but restraint.

“Gia,” he warns again, voice dark, rough.

I smile, leaning in until my lips just barely brush against his jaw. “You’re always so careful with me,” I murmur, letting my breath warm his skin. “But what if I don’t want careful?”

His fingers flex against my waist, his body rigid beneath me. “You need time to heal,” he mutters, but I can hear it—that edge in his voice, the crack in his self-control.

“I needyou.”

His sharp inhale is the only warning I get before I’m suddenly on my back, sprawled across the couch. His weight is warm, solid above me, his hands framing my face with an almost desperate tenderness.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he grits out, his jaw clenched so tight I swear I can hear his teeth grinding.

I arch up, letting my lips ghost over his. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.”

For a moment, he justlooksat me—searching, conflicted. Then, something in him snaps.

He drags his mouth over my jaw, my throat, kissing and nipping his way down my body. His hands move with reverence, but his touch isstarved, like he’s been holding himself back for too long.

“I’ll give you what you need,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice a promise, a warning. “But you don’t get to rush me,dolcezza.”

When he peels off my panties, he lets out a deep groan, gently parting my thighs.

“So fucking gorgeous.”

He leans in, his breath warm against my skin, nuzzling me with reverence so intense it feels almost sacred—like a sinner at an altar, worshiping with devotion only I deserve. Since the moment he took my virginity, he’s treated me this way, like something to becherished,owned—adored.

Keeping his dark, hungry gaze locked on mine, he drags his tongue in a slow, torturous line up my slick folds. A gasp rips from my lips, my fingers threading through his hair on instinct, the need to touch him coursing through me like wildfire.

He teases me mercilessly, pressing soft, lingering kisses to every inch of me, his tongue stroking, exploring, claiming. My body trembles, need winding tighter with every maddening second until I’m tugging at his hair in a desperate, silent plea.

A smirk ghosts over his lips before he gives my clit a sharp, delicious nip, immediately soothing it with the warm slide of his tongue. My moan is ragged—broken, and when he finally slides a finger inside me, curling it just right, I swear I could cry.

“Fuck,” I pant, rolling my hips up to meet him.

“Soon,” he murmurs, his voice thick with promise. “Very soon.”

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