Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Hold her tighter,” Luca orders, his voice barely above a growl, but there’s no mistaking the authority in it. Alexis obeys instantly, his arm a cage around me, keeping me upright.
And then Luca’s mouth slants over mine, rough and claiming, no hesitation, no softness. His lips demand—command—as his fingers wrap around my throat, holding me exactly where he wants me. His kiss is all fire and dominance, and I meet it with a helpless moan, starving for more.
My wrists flex against Alexis’ grip, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. Instead, he tightens his fingers, breathing against my ear with a dark, satisfied chuckle.
“You’re not going anywhere, bella,” Alexis murmurs, his voice thick with sinister amusement, his grip unyielding. “You’re exactly where you belong.”
Antonio approaches, his gray eyes a storm of hunger and uncertainty, and he strokes my arm, then my breasts, watching my skin pebble with goosebumps.
“Play with her clit,” Luca orders, and when Antonio circles there gently, I buck on Luca’s cock.
Luca leans in just enough to drag his teeth over my lower lip, his eyes hooded and feral with lust. He brushes his lips against mine again—a cruel ghost of a kiss—before pulling back entirely, leaving me trembling.
He trails a finger along my throat one last time, and his voice comes out low and wrecked. “No more running, Aemelia.” His eyes blaze with warning. “Never again.”
Then he thrusts up hard, holding me in place, ruthlessly pounding into me until I’m coming again, as fast as a whip crack. “Oh God… oh… fuck… I… I…”
“That’s it,” he growls, “Yes. Fuck. Yes. Come all over my cock…” Then he jerks inside me, spilling into my pussy, mashing my pelvis against his, my name on his lips like a prayer. “Aemelia, fuck, yes, do it. Take it. Take my fucking cum.”
And I do. We’re a mess between our bodies, and I’m limp and wrecked, but it’s okay. It’s more than okay. It’s perfect.
Antonio instructs Alexis to release me and lifts me from Luca’s lap. He carries me like a sleeping child to my waiting bed, resting my body gently against the crisp white comforter. Antonio lowers me with such care that it makes my throat tighten, and the tenderness in his touch undoes me more than the bruising grip of Luca’s hands or the merciless strength in Alexis’ hold.
He lingers over me, his breath warm against my temple as he presses my body into the mattress. His palm glides down my arm, his fingers tracing lazy patterns into my skin as though committing me to memory. I exhale shakily, blinking up at him through the haze of my wrecked desire.
“Rest, bella,” he murmurs, his voice a low, rasping command, but there’s a softness there, a gentleness he doesn’t bother to hide. His knuckles graze my cheek, featherlight, and his eyes—storm-dark and heavy-lidded—search mine with almost unbearable intensity.
I should be spent, too weak to respond, but the way he looks at me like I’m some rare, exquisite treasure he never thought he’d hold ignites a whole new ache deep in my chest. My fingers tremble as I reach for him, slipping over his shoulder and his chest.
“Stay,” I whisper, barely more than a breath.
Antonio’s eyes flicker, raw and vulnerable, before he lowers his head, pressing his forehead to mine. His exhale is heavy, shuddering, and his hand slides around the back of my neck, holding me like a man on the brink of losing himself.
“Aemelia,” he rasps, but his voice betrays him. Low and wrecked, heavy with longing he can’t suppress. His lips hover near mine, so close I can feel the heat of him, but he doesn’t close the distance.
“Please,” I breathe.
His throat works around a sound that’s almost a groan, but then he gives in. Of course, he gives in. He always will.
His mouth claims mine, slow at first, a brush of lips, delicately testing, but the softness doesn’t last. His grip tightens at the base of my neck, anchoring me to him as the kiss deepens. It’s not the same punishing hunger Luca had given me, not the teasing desire Alexis always wields. Antonio kisses me like he’s breaking. Like he’s giving me a piece of himself he’ll never get back.
His hands slide down my body, reverent and possessive, and I arch beneath him, desperate for more. But he pulls back suddenly, hovering over me, his breath ragged.
“No more tonight,” he rasps, his voice thick. “You need to rest.”
I blink up at him, confusion knitting my brow. “But I want—” What do I want? More sex? My body is sore and weak, and my mind a swirling mass of confusion and need.
“No.” His voice is hoarse but firm. His lips part on a ragged exhale, and he rests his forehead against mine once more, desperately grounding himself and rolls to his side. “We won’t touch you like that again, Aemelia.”