Page 82 of Hell Hath No Fury

He thrusts in more sharply, picking up his pace as he drives us both higher. “You’ll understand that regardless of how we got here, to this very moment, we were put on this earth for each other. Fuck it or fight it, this is how we end. Together. Forever.”

Tears stream from my eyes, soaking into the duvet, my broken sobs a mixture of deep pleasure and soul-wrenching pain. He freezes over me, and I glance back, another sob breaking free at the pained indecision on his features. He opens his mouth to speak, likely to say something that will completely break the spell he has us under, so I press my ass back against him, rotating my hips slightly. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He adjusts his position, moving one leg so it’s between mine, his hand on my thigh, spreading me open. Then he falls forward again, bracing his weight on one forearm placed by my head, his lips fluttering against my cheek.

Hooking his free arm around my hip, he forces my hips up as he turns us slightly, his fingers stroking over my clit. My eyesclose, my mouth falling open in pleasure. I want to move, to show him with my body how he makes me feel, but all I can do is lie there on my front, taking everything he gives me.

His lips just touch mine, his breath washing over me as he whispers, “I can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock, love. I’m dying to fill you up, to mark you as mine from the inside out.”

“Oh, fuck,” I choke out, the slide of his cock and press of his fingers igniting a new rush of pleasure. Rocking my hips, my muscles scream, the unnatural position creating a new tension that exacerbates the orgasm building inside me.

His speed slows, his thrusts becoming a rhythmic rut deep inside me, hitting me just right with the stroke of his fingers on my slick, swollen clit. “That’s right, love. Tell me what you want. Make me give it to you.”

“Come,” I moan loudly, my words choked on a sob. “Please, come.”

“Where?” he responds gutturally, losing his steady rhythm briefly as my pussy clenches. “Tell me where.”

“Inside,” I manage to get out, my body spasming,

His response is instantaneous, his dick spearing deep, his entire body freezing over me. He curses, muttering incoherently in Italian as he throbs inside me, the hot release of him adding to the pleasure coursing through me.

He collapses on top of me, the heavy weight of him catching me off-guard as he blankets me fully. My lower body sinks into the mattress as his hand moves from between my legs, stroking up my side, over my shoulder until his palms press against my forehead. He presses slightly, easing my head back so I’m looking into his eyes, and of all the possessive moves he’s ever done, this one feels the most intimate and all-consuming.

He starts to push himself off me, but I shake my head. “Stay. Please.”

He searches my eyes briefly, and I have no idea what he sees there, but he once again relaxes, his palm never leaving my forehead. Silently, I lie there, watching him watch me as I put all my focus on breathing, each inhale and exhale softening the jagged edges of my fucked-up existence. It’s as if this one moment healed a part of me that I didn’t even realize existed.

After a while, I sigh deeply then clear my throat, a small smile curing my lips as I whisper, “Okay. I’m ready now.”

Slowly, he releases me, extricating himself from our position without jarring me. The material twisted around my arms releases, and I wait patiently while he maneuvers me like a rag doll, easing the clothing carefully from my person.

Tossing the clothing to the floor, he turns back to me, helping me onto my side. His hands grip mine, massaging and stroking until they stop tingling, and then he says, “Let’s get you up. I’ll help you to the bathroom.”

“I’m okay,” I respond automatically, already waving him off. “I can walk on my own.”

He snags my hand, assisting me silently even as I continue to attempt to do it on my own. Once I’m seated on the side of the bed, he stops me with a hand on my shoulder and squats down in front of me, his eyes intent on mine as he says, “I know you can do it on your own, Lil. But you don’t have to, and right now, I’m not going to let you.”

He doesn’t wait for me to respond; he just scoops me up in his arms and walks toward the bathroom. I bite back my automatic response to struggle, to insist that I’m better on my own, and soon, I find myself seated in a chair by the toilet, a soft robe around my shoulders.

Antonio squats in front of me again. “Would you like a shower?” I shake my head, so he adds, “A bath?”

Again, I shake my head, a giggle erupting because he wouldn’t have the first idea of my complete aversion to baths. He frownsslightly, so I respond, “I just want some water. And then some good old-fashioned skin-to-skin therapy.”

“Are you sure?”

Nodding, I wave him off. “Yes, I’m sure. Now, give me a minute, please.”

His eyes search mine for a moment longer, then he stands, pressing a kiss against my forehead before exiting the room. He leaves the door open, and I hear him rummaging around in the bedroom as I take care of business.

I’ve just finished brushing my teeth when he returns, a glass of water in hand, which he passes to me without comment.

I take a long drink, then offer it back to him, but he shakes his head. “I left a bottle by the bed. I’ll help you get settled, then get myself sorted.”

“Antonio,” I reply lightheartedly. “I’ll get myself settled. Then you can join me that much quicker.”

Again, he searches my gaze, and I hold my breath, unsure if he’ll allow me to walk into the bedroom or insist on carrying me around for the rest of the night. After a few moments, he nods, and I turn, walking out of the bathroom before he can change his mind.

By the time he exits the bathroom, I’m settled in the center of the bed, allowing him to choose which side he wants to sleep on. He moves to my right, drinking some water from the glass I left there, refilling it, then switching off the bedside lamp and climbing into the bed beside me.

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