Page 26 of Of Murder and Matrimony

“Good to know I make you burn.” He hummed against my neck, tickling the fine hairs and making me shiver. “I have it on good authority that no blood will be spilled tonight.”

I stiffened at his words, remembering the pain of our first time together, how he’d pretended to care as he gently washed me after. “No, you took that a decade ago.”

“It was fucking freely given,” he replied, an edge to his voice. His hands slid over my bare stomach, fingers linking low. Two more inches, and it would be a very different touch. “Begged for, even. Tell me, Olesya, do you think I can make you beg and scream my name tonight?”

I scoffed, twisting free of his hold and facing him. What was the saying about turning your back on an enemy? “In your dreams.”

“I wonder if you still sound as sweet as you did the first time I bottomed out in that pretty little pussy.” He bit his lip and trailed a finger down my chest, flicking one turgid nipple. I clenched my teeth against my gasp. “I dream about that sometimes.”

I backed away until my legs touched the side of the bed. Dante followed, shrugging off his shirt and whipping his unbuckled belt from the loops of his black tuxedo pants. My mouth went dry as he dropped his pants. He wasn’t wearing underwear, and his cock hung thick and heavy between his legs. There was no making that monster stand up straight. It was bigger than I remembered.

How the fuck had I fit that inside of me the first time?

I watched as he kicked free of his pants, revealing bare feet. A man’s feet shouldn’t be allowed to look sexy, but Dante’s did, large, with high arches. Something was seriously wrong with me if I was admiring the feet of a man who should be my enemy. You hate him. Hate him.

“Your nipples are hard for me, Olesya,” Dante observed, his smile triumphant.

Fuck. Tiny little traitors.

I pulled my eyes from his cock and glared at him. “It’s cold.”

“I’ll have to warm you up.” He stalked toward me, his chest brushing against mine as he tilted my chin up. “Body heat is the most effective, you know.”

My back hit the mattress before I could protest, Dante’s large body anchoring between my spread thighs. I trembled, trapped beneath him as his lips crashed into mine. Panic and arousal warred in my mind, but I returned the kiss.

His hand slid between us, finding my cleft and stroking my clit. It was uncanny how quickly he found precisely what I liked—embarrassing how wet I was for him when I didn’t want this. Or did I? Was he fucking with my head, somehow aware that I couldn’t bring myself to deny him my body?

My back arched when he thrust his fingers inside me, pressing my sensitive bud with his thumb. His lips left mine and trailed down my throat, teeth nipping and making me whimper. Only It wasn’t protests that passed my lips. I encouraged him, like his past actions didn’t matter if he could make me come. I’m so weak.

Dante plied my body like he remembered every inch of my flesh. Impossible. We’d only done it once. He was home from college the summer after I graduated high school, and I got it in my head that it would be better to give him my V-card before our arranged marriage. He’d been reluctant, gentlemanly, trying to save my virtue. Until I snuck into his room and climbed onto his lap. My kisses had been sloppy and unpracticed, but it had made him lose that tight control he constantly held onto.

Like now. I wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop even if I asked, and I found I didn’t want to. It felt so good. It doesn’t have to mean anything; I tried to convince myself, even as my body tightened despite my trepidation. It’s just a physical release.

“Dante!” My orgasm hit without warning, my back bowing as I shouted his name, all other thoughts obliterated by the ecstasy electrifying every nerve ending in my body.

Before I could come down from the high, his cock glided through my slick slit. Dante braced himself on one arm and looked down between us. “Fuck, Olesya, you’re so wet for me.”

He ran his cock through the wetness he’d caused, and that tightness in me built again when his broad tip bumped my clit over and over. “Dante, please.”

“Hold on.” He looped my arm over his shoulder, and I anchored myself as he thrust into me in one hard, fast motion.

My nails dug into Dante’s back as I screamed, full to the point of biting pain. He stilled for a moment, letting me adjust, before slowly withdrawing and sinking into me again.

“So fucking tight,” he panted, thrusting faster. “Damn it, Olesya.”

His curse was pleasure and pain. He shifted, draping my legs over his arms until I was nearly bent in half. The new angle made me see stars as he filled me more than I thought possible.

“Can’t,” I whimpered, crying out when he slammed into me.

“You will,” Dante growled, baring his teeth as he stared down at me. “You’ll come for me just like this, piccola fantasma.”

He offered me no reprieve, mercilessly drilling me into the bed. And fuck if another orgasm didn’t build against my will, my body following his orders. My nails raked down his back, clawing at his skin and holding on for dear life, desperate for something finite as I came apart. Distantly, I recognized the sound was my screaming.

“Yes,” Dante hissed, lifting my ass as his thrusts became erratic. “Take my come, wife.”

His jaw clenched as he snapped his hips forward, sinking in until it was nearly impossible to tell where he stopped, and I began. I felt the hot rush of his release as he filled me, so much that our come leaked out around his cock, trickling down my ass.

“Fuck.” He shuddered again, forcing more into me.

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