Chapter 49 #2
"I want... I want you to fuck me," she says, her breath catching. "Please, Antonio. I want you to fuck me so hard."
I grin. "I don't know if you're ready for that," I tease. "How are we going to get all these boxes down if you can't stand?"
"Fuck the boxes," she says, her voice a ragged whisper. "Fuck me."
I love the taste of her, the feel of her, the sounds she makes.
I could do this forever.
But I don't have forever. Not with my cock so hard it's aching.
I rise slowly, moving my lips along her skin as I go. Over the curve of her ass. I nip at the sensitive skin along her spine, and she shudders, a soft moan escaping her lips.
I nibble on the delicate skin of her neck as I find the zipper on the side of the dress. I pull it down, the sound of the teeth separating in the quiet apartment loud.
The dress falls to her feet in a pool of black.
I trace the curve of her hip, my fingers dancing over her skin. Then I move to her breasts, my hands cupping them, my thumbs brushing over her nipples. They pebble under my touch, and I can't resist. I pinch them, and she cries out, her body arching, pressing back against me.
I can feel the heat of her, the need in her. I trail a line of kisses down her neck, my teeth grazing her skin, my tongue soothing the sting. I feel her pulse fluttering against my lips.
I slide my cock between her legs, nestling it right up against her wet, warm pussy. I don't enter her, not yet. I just move back and forth, teasing her, feeling her slick against me. She tries to move, tries to get me where she wants me, but I hold her still with a firm grip on her hip.
"Antonio," she says, her voice a desperate plea.
With my other hand, I take a fistful of her hair and pull her head back before plundering her with my tongue. She tastes like sin and salvation, like home.
I could spend hours kissing her.
But I don't think either of us will last hours.
She's shaking. Pleading. And I'm so hard I'm in pain.
I break away, both of us panting. I’m losing control. My restraint is fraying, the raw need to be inside her threatening to consume me.
I spin her back around to face me, and she falls back against the wall, weak and needy.
And I just look at her.
She's wearing the garter belt, stockings, and heels. And nothing else.
The way her hair is a mess, the way her cheeks are flushed, the way her lips are swollen and red, the way her pupils are blown with lust, her chest is heaving.
She's a goddess.
"God, you're gorgeous," I say, my voice rough with emotion.
She looks at me, her eyes dark, her lips parted.
I want to remember her like this forever.
I sweep her into my arms, one arm under her knees, the other behind her back, and she lets out a small squeak of surprise.
Her arms wrap around my neck, her head against my chest. I can feel her heart beating against mine.
I carry her to the bedroom, leaving her dress in a heap on the floor. The garter belt, stockings, and heels, however, stay on.
The bedroom is a mess of boxes and packing tape, but I don't see any of it.
I only see her.
I lay her down on the bed gently, my eyes drinking her in. She looks up at me, her gaze soft and trusting.
I take her heels off and toss them aside, followed by the garter belt and stockings. Then I pull my shirt over my head.
My muscles ripple as I move. I'm in shape, I know it.
But the way she's looking at me... It makes me feel like a god.
Wanted.
Desired.
Needed.
I push my pants off, get on the bed, and crawl over her, caging her in with my body.
She’s not trapped, she’s where she wants to be. Where she belongs.
She wants this. Wants me.
I lower my head, and my lips find her collarbone. I trail kisses over her skin, tasting her, feeling her shudder under my touch. My hands roam her body, exploring, learning. Memorizing.
"I love the feel of your skin, the way you respond to me, the little sounds you make," I murmur. "I could spend days exploring you, mapping out every inch of your body with my hands and my tongue."
I lower my head, and my lips find her breast. I take her nipple into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. She gasps, her back arching, her fingers tangling in my hair.
"And your breasts. They're perfect. The perfect size to fit in my hands, the perfect weight. I love the way they feel, the way they taste."
I spend a long time there, lavishing attention on them until she's writhing beneath me, her body a taut string of need.
Then, I move lower.
My lips find her stomach, and I press a soft kiss to the warm skin there. The skin that will soon stretch and grow and house our babies.
A fierce wave of love washes over me, so strong it almost takes my breath away.
I rest my cheek against her stomach, my hand splayed across it.
"Antonio," she says, her voice a breathy whisper. "What are you doing?"
I look up at her, my eyes full of love and adoration. "I'm worshipping you."
I press a kiss to her stomach, right over our children.
My children. Our children.
"I'm worshipping the mother of my children. The woman I love."
She looks at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Oh, Antonio."
I slide back up her body, my lips finding hers. This kiss is different from the others.
It's gentle, tender, full of love. and a promise of a future.
A future I'm ready to start.
Now.
I position myself between her legs, my cock nudging at her entrance.
She’s wet and ready, her body eager, welcoming.
I look into her eyes and see what I need there.
Slowly, I push into her.
The feeling is... indescribable. Tight, hot, wet.
Home.
This is home.
I groan, my head dropping to her shoulder as I sink deeper, her body stretching to accommodate me.
She feels incredible, like she was made for me, and only for me.
She's all velvet heat and tight, perfect grip, and for a second, I forget everything but this feeling, this connection.
Her arms wrap around my neck, her legs around my waist, pulling me closer, deeper.
"Antonio," she breathes, her voice a ragged whisper against my ear.
"Say my name again," I demand, my voice rough.
"Antonio," she says, her lips brushing against my ear.
"Again."
"Antonio," she says, her voice a little louder, a little more confident.
I start to move, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, slow and deliberate.
Her nails dig into my back, a sharp sting that only adds to the pleasure.
I pick up the pace, my movements becoming more forceful, more demanding. I'm hitting that spot deep inside her, the one that makes her see stars, and she's meeting me thrust for thrust, her body moving with mine, a perfect, rhythmic dance.
Her breathless cries fill the room, a beautiful, wanton melody.
"You feel so good," she whispers, her words a jumble of pleasure and praise. "So deep, so... oh, God, Antonio, don't stop."
I have no intention of stopping.
I reach between us, my fingers finding her clit, and I rub her in tight circles, matching the rhythm of my hips.
Her body tenses, her back arching.
"That's it, dolcezza," I encourage, my lips against her ear. "Come for me. Let me feel you."
Her orgasm rips through her, a violent, beautiful thing.
"Oh, God, I love you," she screams, her body convulsing around my cock. "I love you so much. Again. Antonio. More."
I pick up the pace again, my movements becoming faster, harder.
Her body meets me, thrust for thrust, her hips rising to meet mine.
"You like that, don't you?" I murmur. "You like it when I fuck you so well your legs just give out on you. You like it when I fill you up, stretch you so wide it hurts."
"Yes," she moans, her head thrashing from side to side. Her hands move to my ass, pulling me deeper.
The bed creaks under us, a rhythmic protest against our frantic coupling.
The sounds of our bodies coming together, the wet, slick sounds, the slapping of skin against skin, the ragged, desperate breaths, the moans and the cries... I can't take it anymore.
I feel the familiar tightening in my balls, the tell-tale tingle at the base of my spine. I'm close. So close.
But she's not ready yet.
I want to see her face when she comes again. I want to watch her fall apart.
"Elsa," I grunt. "Get on top."
I flip us over, so she’s straddling me, her hair a wild tangle around her shoulders, her lips swollen and red.
"Ride me, dolcezza. Make yourself come on my cock."
She looks down at me, her eyes dark, a feral glint in them that I've never seen before. She looks like a predator, a goddess, a queen.
She leans down, her hands on my chest, her lips finding mine.
Then she sits up, her hands braced on my chest as she starts to move.
And it’s a glorious sight.
Her breasts bounce with every movement, her nipples hard, her back arched, her head thrown back.
My wife. Someday soon.
The mother of my children.
And she’s riding me like I’m her personal stallion.
She’s taking her pleasure, using my body for her own, and it's so fucking sexy.
I watch her, completely captivated.
I reach up and cup her breasts, my thumbs brushing over her nipples. She whimpers, her body moving faster, more desperately.
"I want you to fill me up," she says, her voice a low, sultry whisper. "I want to feel your hot cum inside me."
"You want my cum, Elsa?" I ask, my hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements.
"Yes," she says, her breath catching.
"Take it, then," I say, my own control shattering. "Take all of it."
My orgasm hits me like a freight train, a wave of pleasure that steals my breath, my vision blurring. I come with a hoarse cry, my body arching up off the bed, my hips driving up into her, emptying myself deep inside her.
The feeling of my release triggers her own. She shatters, her body convulsing, her head thrown back, a long, drawn-out cry of my name.
She collapses on top of me, her body limp, her breath ragged.
I hold her close, my arms wrapped around her, my heart pounding in my chest.
For a long time, we just lie there, our bodies tangled, our breaths mingling. On and off as the light outside the window goes dark, we slide skin against skin and kiss lazily while the world outside continues moving around us.
I love the weight of her on me. The way her body fits perfectly against mine. The way her hair smells. The way her skin feels.
This is a moment I want to hold on to. A memory I want to savor.
I press a kiss to her forehead. "You're going to be my wife."
She lifts her head, her eyes searching mine. "What?"
"You heard me," I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. "You're going to be my wife."
She just looks at me, her lips parted in surprise.
"Is that some sort of proposal?"
"Nope. I'm not asking, Elsa," I say, my hands framing her face. "I'm telling you. We're going to get married. We're going to build a life together. We're going to raise these children together."
A slow smile spreads across her face. "Is that so?"
I grin. "I guess I could get down on one knee, but I get a little distracted when I'm on my knees in front of you."
She laughs, and it lights up her whole face in an adorable blush.
I am completely, utterly lost on this woman.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Okay," she says, her eyes shining with tears. "Okay, Antonio. I'll marry you."
My heart leaps with joy.
"Good," I say arrogantly. "Because I wasn't taking no for an answer."
She laughs again, and I kiss her.
"I'll get you a ring, though," I murmur against her lips. "Something perfect for you."
"I don't need a ring, Antonio," she says, her voice soft.
"I know," I say. "You think I don't know my woman? You think I don't know that you'd be just as happy with a twist tie or a goddamn rubber band? But you're getting a ring. A big one. A huge one. So big you can't even lift your hand."
She laughs, and the sound is like music.
"I definitely don't need a ring that big," she says.
"No?" I say. I shift so I can reach over the side of the bed to my pants on the floor. I dig in the pocket and pull out a small black box.
Her eyes go wide.
"How about this one?"
I open the box, and inside is a beautiful, antique ring with a deep blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds that glitter in the dim light of the bedroom.
"Oh, Antonio," she says, her voice a breathy whisper.
"I've been carrying this around for weeks," I admit, my voice low. "I was waiting for the right moment. But I realized there's no such thing as the right moment. Every moment with you is right."
I take the ring out of the box and slide it onto her finger.
It fits perfectly.
"I love you," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much it scares me. You've changed everything, Elsa. You've made me want things I never thought I'd have. A family. A future. A life with you."
Tears stream down her face.
"Don't cry," I say, my thumb brushing them away. "I can't stand to see you cry."
"They're happy tears," she says, her lips trembling into a smile. "I love you, Antonio."
I kiss her, a deep, slow kiss that tastes of salt and tears and a future full of promise.
We lie in bed for a long time, her head on my chest, my fingers moving slowly through her hair. The ring on her finger is the only thing she’s wearing.
I’m a man with a past.
A dark, violent one.
And a future that will likely demand the same of me.
But I wouldn’t change a single thing.Because every choice, every mistake, every drop of blood… led me here.
To her.
To this.
I look down at the woman who owns what’s left of my soul, and I know—with a certainty carved into bone—that I will burn the world before I ever let it touch her.
Or our children.
Because she isn’t just my future.
She’s mine.
And anyone who forgets that…
Won’t live long enough to matter.
THE END