Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
It ties me up in knots, every suppressed emotion bubbling to the surface. Then, before I can stop myself, the words tumble out and crash against his mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
He nips at my lip and tightens his grip on my hair, a silent warning.
“Angelo, I’m sorry.” My vision blurs, a tidal wave of regret rising in my chest.
I know he doesn’t want to hear it, but I have to say it. It won’t change anything. It doesn’t fix what happened, and I don’t expect it to. But I need him to know that I mean it.
He releases my mouth and burrows into the curve of my neck, inhaling me.
“You’ve carried it this long, little liar,” he growls. “Don’t start repenting now.”
He soothes the sting of those words with the glide of his hands as they travel down my sides and settle on my hips. The warmth of his touch is almost tender, but I can’t swallow the feeling that forgiveness isn’t on the table.
Then again, maybe it’s better he doesn’t forgive me.
“Angelo—”
“Where are your loyalties now?” he asks. “Tell me, Abella—life or death, who would it be?”
Those ominous words send a cold chill up my spine. It doesn’t feel like a theoretical question. Not coming from him.
“That’s not fair,” I whisper.
A quiet hum of menace stirs from his throat. “No? Tell me what part isn’t fair.”
When I fail to answer, he flattens a palm against the center of my chest and presses me back until I drop onto my elbows. I feel like I’m on display, legs spread, breasts exposed, all of my body laid bare for him.
Silence stretches between us, the weight of his gaze a hot caress against my skin. I can feel him mapping every inch of my body, even if I can’t see it. It burns with an intensity only rivaled by the sun.
He shifts, his body a delicious weight bearing down on me when he leans in, pressing a constellation of kisses along the column of my throat. It’s a slow, maddening spiral as each imprint grows rougher than the last.
He carves a path down to my breast, teeth scraping over the swell before he latches onto a nipple and sucks it into his mouth.
The shock of sensation wrenches a cry from my lips. I arch into him, sinking my fingers into his hair and palming the back of his head. He laps at my nipple, winding me up until I’m aching to fill the empty space between my thighs.
I roll my hips, and the feeling of his rigid heat sliding through my arousal lights up every nerve in my body. A deep sound of approval reverberates against me as he shifts his weight and nudges the head of his cock against my entrance.
That’s when a rush of panic unfurls. My hands fall to his biceps, clinging to him as I blurt the words from my mouth.
“What if you don’t fit?”
He releases my breast, pulling back slightly. There’s a beat of silence as his fingers trace the curve of my face, the question hanging in the air. I knew he didn’t believe me when I told him Matteo hadn’t ever touched me. Not like this. But now I can feel the charge in the atmosphere, a primal claim etching itself into the marrow of his bones.
He wants it to be true. The savage need to own me sparks through him, the current arcing between us until it ignites us both.
“I promise I’ll fit.” He slides his palm around the back of my neck, gripping me there as his lips hover a breath from mine. “I’ll fit you so well you’ll never stop begging for it. You’ll be so thoroughly fucked, you’ll feel me every time you breathe. And every day, you’ll spread your legs and ask me to do it all over again.”
Strangled pleasure catches in my throat. He licks at my lip, then kisses me roughly, biting at me like he wants to devour me.
I want to be devoured. I want it so badly, I surrender to him as he starts to push inside. It’s a slow-burning glide that stretches me apart. The intensity of feeling so full is unlike anything I’ve ever imagined, and he’s barely just begun. The pressure increases with every hard-won inch until a sharp sting makes me gasp.
“Fuck, Abella,” he groans against me, fingers branding my skin as a powerful tremor shudders through his body.
He definitely knows he’s my first now. His ring on my finger means he’ll be my last, too. There’s so much baggage that comes with that, but for now, I want to bask in the glow of his possession.
“This was always meant to be mine.” He cradles my face in his palm, and I nod against him.
“Say it,” he commands.
“It’s always been yours.”
Another low, deep groan fills the space between us as he pushes a little further. I don’t even feel how much tension has crept back into my body until he coaxes it out of me with the steady pressure of his hands. His large palms sweep over my shoulders and down my sides, cupping my ass as he takes another inch of me.