Page 244 of Legacy
“Not yet,” I breathe out.
I crawl over him, straddling his hips, and line him up with my soaked entrance. His hands fly to my thighs, squeezing hard, eyes locked on where we’re about to join.
“Now,” I whisper.
And I sink down on him, slow, taking every inch, feeling the stretch, the slide, the burn, until he’s seated deep inside me.
His head drops back, a raw, broken sound ripping from his throat. “Cazzo!”
I start to move, rolling my hips, grinding down, using him to hit that perfect spot inside me that has me gasping.
His hands slide up, grabbing my ass, pulling me down harder as he thrusts up to meet me, slamming into me with a force that moves the bed and makes the headboard slam against the wall.
“Harder,” I pant, nails raking down his chest.
“Fuck, you want it rough?” he snarls, eyes flashing.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Give it to me.”
His grip tightens bruising, and he slams up into me, hard, relentless, each thrust punching a moan out of me, my breasts bouncing with every stroke.
“Take it,” he growls. “Take every fucking inch.”
Dios.
I try to ride him, but he meets every grind with a brutal thrust that reminds me who’s really in control.”
“You love this don’t you?” he hisses, thumb flicking over my clit as he pounds up into me. “You missed my cock?”
“Yes!”
He flips us, keeping himself buried inside me as he takes full control, thrusting into me with brutal precision, hitting that spot again and again until I’m screaming, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.
“Look at me,” he demands, pinning my hands above my head with one of his, the other gripping my jaw, forcing my eyes to his.
His eyes are molten, dark, feral. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I sob, the orgasm building, blinding, ready to rip me apart.
“Again.”
“I’m yours, Angelo. I’m fucking yours!”
He slams into me harder, faster, and his hand slides from my jaw to wrap around my throat, squeezing just enough to make the edges of my vision blur as he fucks me. The pressure, the burn, the way his eyes lock on mine and I break, choking on his name as the orgasm crashes over me, body locking up, pulsing around him.
“That’s it, Tesoro,” he growls, losing his rhythm, thrusts turning desperate, erratic. “Take it. Take all of me.”
And then he lets go, coming deep inside me with a low, guttural groan, his face buried in my neck, his body shaking, spilling into me like he’s branding me from the inside out.
His hands loosen, but we don’t move.
Our breaths are ragged, mingling. Our bodies are trembling, locked together, sweat slick, filthy, perfect.
Because this isn’t just sex.
This is homecoming.
This is everything we lost—finally found again.
