“I’ll give you all I have.” His hands leave me only long enough to tug his belt loose and lower his zipper. “Whatever you want, Isla, it’s yours. Without question.”
But only for tonighthangs in the silence, slicing me with cruelty.
He hovers above me, anguish etched in the shadows of his face—regret warring with desire neither of us can bury.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks.
I nod, my body trembling with urgency as I shimmy out of my panties. “Without a doubt.”
He lowers his attention to my pussy, gaze ablaze. “Bene.” His fingers slide down my entrance, teasing, coaxing. “Non sopravvivrei se mi negassi.”
I drown in the seductive drawl as his weight returns between my thighs.
And then the hard length of him sinks inside me. Not rushed. Not angered or punishing like before. A single, devastatingstroke—slow and deliberate—forcing me to feel him, to take him, to stretch around him until pleasure and pain bloom into sweet torment.
I bite back a cry. Half bliss. Half heartache.
I wrap a leg over his hip, demanding more, anchoring him deeper. He answers with merciless authority, steady consuming thrusts that build into a fevered pulse.
Each stroke is ruthless. Relentless. Crafted to make the world disappear so I feel, and think, and breathe nothing but him.
He maintains the rhythm like a weapon, refusing to give me the frenzy I crave. Instead, he drags it out, every drive meticulous, every withdrawal calculated to keep me trembling on the edge.
My moans sharpen, growing louder, but he silences them with his lips, his kiss plundering with the same hunger as his body until he eventually pulls back for air.
He watches me, his stare devouring while I writhe beneath him.
“Christ,” he rasps. His hands capture mine, pinning them above my head, our fingers lacing with an intimacy that threatens to shatter me. “The way you take me…”
I bite my bottom lip, rolling my hips, already close. “Harder.”
The feral rumble of his approval vibrates against my chest as he obeys.
His forehead brushes mine. “I want to see you this time. I want to watch you come undone around my cock.”
I shake my head, the pleasure building. I’m not ready for this to be over. Yet my climax stalks me, prowling closer.
“Voglio scoparti finché non dimentichi il tuo nome,mio tesoro,” he growls, low and filthy, in my ear. “Se fossi mia, vivrei per adorarti.” His grip on my fingers tightens while he thrusts harder, faster. “Se soltanto fossi mia.”
“Raffael—” I gasp, my back arching, my toes curling.
“Se soltanto fossi mia,tesoro mio,” he repeats, the words haunting, each drive of his hips a deliberate, maddening claim.
I can’t take any more.
I come undone with his lips against mine, every logical, self-preserving reason to walk away tomorrow simply vanishing.
Chapter
Twenty-One
ISLA
The aftermath is different.
Soft touches. A silence that feels earned, not empty.
The ocean breeze cools my overheated skin as he plays with my hair, his gaze locked on mine.