Page 357 of Legacy
His growl vibrates against me, a dark warning, and he doubles down, licking me like it’s the only thing that matters, like he’ll die if he stops. The rough scrape of his stubble against my inner thighs makes my knees threaten to give, but he holds me there, mouth working me until I’m shaking, until the world goes white.
I come hard, my body bowing, a cry ripping from my throat as the orgasm tearing through me like a live wire.
He doesn’t stop.
He keeps licking, slow now, savoring every shudder, every gasp, until I whimper, pushing at his shoulders.
Only then does he pull back, lips slick, pupils blown. His chest heaves as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Look at you,” he mutters, dark satisfaction dripping from every word. “Fucking perfect.”
His fingers lingering, pressing, teasing until I gasp, and then he rises, towering over me.
I try to catch my breath, but he’s already unbuckling his belt, the leather sliding free with a sharp hiss that sends another rush of heat through me.
“We don’t have long—” I whisper, but he cuts me off with a look that shuts me up.
“Quiet,Scarlet,” he orders, voice low, lethal. “You’re already being too loud.”
He slides the delicate garter down my thigh, slow, deliberate, his knuckles brushing my skin in a tease that makes me squirm.
“Angelo, we can’t—”
But he spins me, pressing me into the wall, his body a hard line against my back. He gathers my wrists, binding them with the lace garter, the bite of it a soft promise as he secures the knot
“Fuck,” I breathe, testing the restraint, but there’s no give.
“Stay still.”
His hands lift my dress again, rougher now, baring me, and his fingers hook around the waistband of my panties.
“Don’t rip them—”
The fabric tears in his fists.
I gasp, turning my head, but his hand clamps over my mouth, shoving the ruined lace between my lips, forcing my jaw open as the taste of lace and my own arousal floods my tongue.
“Told you,” he breathes against my ear, his voice a blade wrapped in velvet, “you need to be quiet.”
My eyes slam shut, my body trembling, but then I feel him—thick, hard, pressing against me. The blunt head of his cock drags through the slick heat of my pussy, teasing for a breath before he slams inside in one brutal, claiming thrust.
The scream tears out of me but dies against the gag, muffled and desperate as he fills me, stretching me, owning me.
His hands grip my hips, fingers digging in, bruising, as he drags out and thrusts back in, each stroke harder, deeper, the sound of skin on skin obscene in the small space
My knees buckle, but he holds me up, one hand slipping around to press against my lower belly, the other gripping my bound wrists, pulling them higher, forcing my back to arch as he fucks me.
“You feel that?” he growls against my ear, breath hot, ragged. “You feel who you belong to?”
I can only moan, eyes rolling back, the pressure building, the heat coiling so tight I can barely stand it.
“Mine,”he snarls, slamming into me, the world fracturing with every punishing thrust. “Say it.”
The gag muffles my voice, but I scream it anyway, sobbing around the fabric, the world narrowing to him, to this, to the brutal pleasure tearing me apart.
My orgasm crashes into me, violent and sharp, my body convulsing, clenching around him as he keeps going, chasing his own release.
“Fuck, yesScarlet—” His voice breaks, and with one final thrust, he buries himself deep, groaning against my neck as he spills inside me, pulsing, claiming, his breath hot on my skin.
