Chapter 30 #2
The rest of the family talks amongst themselves as they shuffle into the hall, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You can’t be too irritated.” I smile at Cristian. “Everyone was worried sick. You’re very loved, in case you didn’t know.”
Something flickers in his eyes as he holds my gaze, and I realize how he could interpret what I said. But instead of panicking about it like I would have a few days ago, I just let it be.
He drags his fingers through my hair, his attention dipping to the necklace that’s still locked around my neck.
“Do you want to get fucked here or in the shower?”
A thread of darkness saturates his voice, and a shiver of pleasure rolls down my spine. I love it when dominant Cristian comes out to play.
“That sounds like a foregone conclusion,” I tease.
He drags my hand over the ridges of his abs and settles it on his cock, his heated words ghosting over my ear.
“You already know it is.”
I hum my approval as he grazes my throat with his teeth, nipping and sucking his way down to my collarbone.
Surrendering to the moment, I let him devour me while I stroke his cock.
The steady drip of anticipation thrums through my veins, feeding the ache inside me. I close my eyes, getting caught up in the rush of what he does to me.
Then, all at once, everything grinds to a halt.
Pulling away, he flips off the covers and rises to his feet.
“What are you—”
A yelp escapes me when he grabs me by the ankle and yanks me toward him. A second later, he has me bent over the bed, gripping two handfuls of my ass as he spreads me apart.
“Fuck, I missed this,” he growls.
His rough confession leaves me drunk with pleasure and completely unaware. So when his palm collides with my ass, it startles another yelp from me, and he rumbles his approval.
“You have to stop taking this away from me.”
He doles out another stinging smack on the other side, and I bite back a moan.
“Use your words,” he orders roughly. “Let me hear it.”
I want to tell him, but I also don’t want him to stop. So I let him punish my ass until it’s red-hot, realizing in the moment how much I needed this.
When the words finally burst out of me, my voice cracks.
“I’m sorry for taking it away.”
He slides his hand through my arousal and slowly pushes two fingers inside me with a groan. “Look at my good girl making that pussy so wet for me.”
I clench around him, ready to come from those words alone.
He sweeps his other palm up my back and twists my hair in his grip, giving it a firm tug.
“I want to fuck you hard, gattina.”
The ragged edge in his voice tells me this isn’t just want, and I don’t even have to think about it.
“Yes,” I answer breathlessly, my spine bowing as he increases the tension on my hair.
“Obbediente, come mi piace.”
A needy sound spills out of me as those accented words settle between my thighs. He could read a grocery list in Italian, and I’d still probably get off on it.
Dragging his wet fingers out of me, he gives my pussy a light slap, then soothes it with the head of his cock. Spreading me apart with his hands, he sinks inside me about an inch before he stops.
I’m wondering what he’s doing when he tightens his hold on me, but the answer comes a second later—when he buries his cock inside me with one thrust.
It steals the breath from my lungs and nearly buckles my knees as every solid inch of him splits me apart.
“Look how well you take it,” he rasps, slowly withdrawing his cock and pushing back into me. “Do you know what this fucking pussy does to me?”
A strangled sound of pleasure crawls up my throat as his approval floods me with warmth. I crave this from him, and when he gives it to me, I unravel.
He winds my hair around his fist and pulls my head back until I meet his gaze.
The raw, heavy slide of his cock increases as he picks up the pace, and I surrender completely.
He fucks me hard, claiming me without restraint as we stare into each other’s eyes.
There’s something so hot about watching him own me like this, I never want it to end.
I know now, without a shadow of a doubt, I’m so gone for him. And he’s not even close to done wrecking me yet.
“This is where you belong, principessa.” He releases my hair and wraps his hand around the front of my throat.
I nod, choking back the emotion rising inside me. I want it to be true—more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Anchoring an arm around my waist, he pulls me upright and presses my back to his chest.
My head lolls against him, and his fingers caress my face as if committing every detail to memory.
His lips brush my ear as he fucks me softly. “You love taking my cum like a good little wife, don’t you, baby?”
Electricity sparks through my veins, sending a current of heat straight through me. I couldn’t lie right now even if I wanted to. So I just go ahead and blurt it out.
“God, yes.”
“Say you’re mine, cara.”
I don’t know what it means for our future. There are still a thousand uncertainties hanging over our heads. But right now, nothing else matters. After the hell of the last two days, I’ll take however long I get, even if it kills me in the end.
“I’m yours, Cristian.”
“Sei sempre stata mia.” He kisses the words against my lips.
“I really have to learn Italian,” I answer on a shaky breath.
A lazy smile plays across his face as he kisses his way down my throat. He keeps going, teeth scraping over my sensitive skin as the tension in our bodies rises.
We’re both so close, I’m hovering on the edge of agony.
And then he just comes right out and says it.
“I’m ready to be a father, gattina. Are you ready to make me one?”
Oh, Jesus.
I let out what can only be a sound of agreement as I freefall into an orgasm, my body clamping down around him so hard, it unravels him right along with me.
His muscles contract, fingers biting into my flesh as he comes with a deep, masculine sound of pleasure. It sets off a series of aftershocks for both of us, and he draws it out with slow, languid thrusts that continue long after he’s filled me with his release.
There’s an undeniable charge in the air as we come down from what I just admitted. There’s no point in denying it. I’ve been letting him fuck me bare, pretending I could compartmentalize it. But we both know it was never going to be an accident.
I just can’t bring myself to say it out loud when he’s not fucking these confessions out of me. So, I deflect.
“We have to shower. Everybody’s waiting on us.”
He seems completely unbothered as his hands roam over me without any particular destination. “They’ll be fine for a while longer.”
Closing my eyes, I melt against him until eventually, he does actually take me to the shower.
I have every intention of getting him to brunch. But as I wash him, I register the full extent of his cuts and bruises, and I get emotional all over again.
After some more tears, he comforts me, which turns into sex against the wall.
Needless to say, I probably won’t be able to walk today, but it’s worth it.
As we’re drying off, my eyes drift to the geometric shape on his chest, and I remember what he said the first time I mentioned it. I asked him what it meant, and he said irony.
Now, I think I finally get it.
“It’s Corvus, isn’t it?”
Something dark and possessive flickers in his eyes as he nods. “So much fucking irony.”
I let that sink in, and I don’t know what else to say other than he’s right.
It’s not even the fact that God apparently custom-printed me just for him, constellation and all.
It’s how I chose Morrigan the raven goddess at Sanctum, and he knew all along.
It’s how that theme has continually woven us together, even when I didn’t know it.
It took almost losing him for me to see everything so clearly.
And now that I do, I’m quite certain irony has never tasted so sweet.