Page 69 of Obsession & Oath

I stare down at his cock and lick my lips.

It drives him insane.

In the blink of an eye, his hands areonme. They’re ripping my panties to one side, they’re lifting me up to seat me on top of him, they’re clinging to my arms as he thrusts straight into me.

“Ohfuck.”

It’s rough, and it’s desperate the way he slams into me again. All I can do is sit and take it, my entire body affected by the recoil. My breasts bouncing in his face are all the reminder he needs to take my nipples into his mouth again.

I let out a long groan.

Suddenly, his movements aren’t enough. I need more of him. I need him deeper,harder.

My hands go to his shoulders as I begin to match his rhythm with my own hips, rolling into him with a deliciousness that has us both falling back into the bed again.

I surrender myself to my baser instincts, riding him thoroughly with only one agenda: to chase our pleasure by any means. Fingernails rake across skin, noises of desperation escape lips, bruising kisses are exchanged.

“Look at you,” he whispers up at me. His eyes black with wondrous desire. “You’re perfect. This is perfect.”

And as I tilt my head back to let out a scream of pure lust, I can’t help but agree.

Chapter19

Dante

The sun is a little softer today, the heat of the afternoon tempered by a cool breeze as Carmen and I wander once more through Montecroce’s vibrant market.

It’s become a habit for us to walk out here this last month on the days I have to meet with the Grasso di Ferro, meetings that have become suspiciously less frequent—especially this last week.

Evelina has refused to even entertain my line of questioning, but there’s no doubt that the old lady is up to something. Especially with all the glances she was throwing my way at dinner the other night.

The cobbled streets are alive with noise—vendors shouting, the chatter of locals mingling, the clink of coins—and the smells are intoxicating: fresh bread, cured meats, and flowers.

Carmen, as usual, has wandered off a few steps ahead of me, her curiosity pulling her in every direction.

She stops in front of a stall brimming with flowers, her fingers brushing over the delicate petals. The colors are vivid, the blooms bold, unlike anything I’ve ever seen in Brooklyn, and her fascination with them is immediate.

“What are these?” she asks, her tone soft, her gaze fixed on a cluster of white flowers that stand out against the other vibrant colors.

The vendor offers her a sweet smile. “Gardenias. Rare around here, but…”

Carmen has already plucked them from their vase, inhaling deeply. “They smell divine.”

I look down at her with a smirk. “You know, I’ve never really seen the point in flowers. They’re always so fleeting.”

She shoots me a quick, annoyed look over her shoulder. “Of course you’d say that.”

“I’m just saying, why not plant something instead? Then at least it would stick around long enough for you to be able to admire it again.”

“Planted a lot of things, have you?” she challenges.

“No. But I’m never really in one place long enough for that.”

“You’ve always had that ‘I’m not the settling type’ vibe about you,” she says with a light, teasing tone, though I hear the subtle question in her voice.

I hesitate, my fingers brushing over the edge of my coat as I look at the flowers, unable to avoid her gaze.

“You’re right, I suppose. I never saw myself staying anywhere, much less with anyone.”

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