Chapter Forty-Seven Ella
Chapter Forty-Seven
Ella
Iwake to gentle rocking, and it takes me a minute to remember where I am. Golden sunlight streams through the balcony doors, and I stretch slowly beneath the sheets, a content smile curving my lips.
What a night.
There wasn’t much sleeping after Tiero woke me with his head buried between my thighs.
My body tingles all over at the memory.
I tried to resist, to hold out. But whatever distance I had attempted to create last evening dissolved under his mouth, his hands, the deliberate way he touched me like he was reclaiming something.
I got the distinct impression he was determined to erase the fear from my body and replace it with desire so overwhelming there would be no room left for anything else. He fully succeeded.
God, this man has a wicked tongue, skillful hands, and even more adept fingers. His insatiable hunger for me is not something I’ve experienced before. Not even close.
And I’m more than happy to let him have his fill of me.
Speaking of my personal sex god… where is he?
I glance around the room and spot him stretched out on the lounger on the balcony, a book open in his hands.
He looks infuriatingly handsome, sunlight sliding over bronze skin and catching on the hard planes of his chest. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of swim shorts, and my pulse immediately quickens.
I take my time drinking him in.
The defined line of his shoulders. The lazy sprawl of his strong legs. The way the light makes every muscle look carved and deliberate. My fingers itch to touch him again, to trace every inch of him, to see if he’d look as composed if I ran my hands over that perfectly controlled body.
My ever-present desire for him stirs and pools low in my belly. I’m still tender from last night’s activities, pleasantly aware of every place he touched, every place he claimed. But that doesn’t stop the heat from building all over again.
Before I let myself indulge, though, there’s one practical matter to address.
I slip from the bed and walk naked into the bathroom, not bothering to cover myself. You would never guess we’re on a boat. The space is easily as large as the bathroom back home, all sleek surfaces and polished stone.
Rhia and I once went on a mini cruise, and the bathroom there had been more like a broom closet. You could barely turn around without elbowing the sink. I remember feeling genuinely sorry for anyone even slightly claustrophobic.
Not a problem here.
As I wash my hands and splash cool water over my face, the door opens.
Tiero steps inside.
Our eyes meet in the mirror, and everything inside me sparks to life.
“Good morning, princess,” he says, his voice low and still rough from lack of sleep.
Not wasting time on small talk, he trails slow, deliberate kisses along the side of my neck. I tilt my head instinctively, giving him better access, already melting under the caress of his mouth.
“Buongiorno,” I murmur, my voice betraying me with a slight tremor.
His hands slide around to my front, traveling upward from my stomach to my breasts, claiming them with firm familiarity. The solid press of his erection against my backside makes it very clear he’s ready to conquer again.
God, I need him. Now.
I turn my head to tell him exactly that, but he captures my mouth before I can form the words. There’s an edge to his kiss this morning, something more urgent than playful. It sends a ripple of anticipation down my spine.
After last night, I would have thought his hunger might finally be satisfied.
It isn’t. It’s like a bottomless pit.
As he kneads and squeezes my breasts, his tongue demands entry. When I part my lips for him, he takes control without hesitation, kissing me like he intends to remind me of something.
What’s driving him this morning?
Whatever it is, I feel it too.
The intensity. The insistence.
All I can do is surrender to the force of it.
And I do. Willingly.
Without taking his lips off mine, he pushes his swim shorts down and takes out a condom from the cabinet. The faint crinkle of foil barely registers before he’s ready again, having sheathed himself in record time.
Then he releases my mouth.
His hands press between my shoulder blades, guiding me forward until my palms brace against the cool marble of the countertop. The temperature contrast sends a shiver across my skin.
He positions himself behind me, and in one decisive motion, he drives into me fully, a deep, raw sound tearing from his throat.
The sudden fullness steals my breath.
A soft cry slips from my lips as my body stretches around him, the sensation sharp, overwhelming, and intoxicating all at once. Fire floods through me, spreading outward in waves like an inferno.
When I lift my gaze, his eyes are locked on mine in the mirror.
Dark. Possessive. Unblinking.
He watches every flicker of expression cross my face, his intensity dialed up a few notches this morning. I didn’t think that was possible.
He says nothing.
He doesn’t need to.
Everything he’s thinking is there, in the way his jaw tightens, in the controlled rhythm of his movements, in the heat of his stare.
There’s hunger in it. Passion. Something almost feral beneath the surface.
And I can’t look away.
My body responds instinctively, welcoming him, adjusting to him, urging him deeper. He moves again, slower this time, then harder, building a rhythm that’s deliberate and commanding.
My head drops forward as the pleasure builds too quickly, but he refuses the retreat. His fingers tighten in my hair, drawing me upright again.
“Look at me,” he murmurs roughly.
And I do.
He is breathtaking like this. Controlled and unraveling at the same time. Muscles flexing beneath sun-kissed skin. Eyes darkened by need.
Watching him lose himself is intoxicating.
Watching him fight not to is even more so.
Tiero’s control snaps.
There is nothing restrained about him now. He drives into me with raw, deliberate power, and I grip the cool marble, my fingers turning white as I fight to steady myself.
I never imagined I would crave being taken like this, claimed with such unfiltered abandon, but my body answers him eagerly. Even as the edge of the vanity presses into my abdomen with every hard thrust, even as the pressure builds and sharpens, I do not pull away.
If anything, I push back.
The sensations coursing through my body border on overwhelming. They’re almost too much, but they electrify me. I know I will feel this all day. I know there will be marks. The thought sends another surge of heat through me.
Right now, though, I don’t care.
I want all of him.
All of his strength and urgency. All of whatever is driving him this morning.
The room fills with the sound of us. Ragged breaths. Low groans. The steady rhythm of bodies moving together without restraint.
A sheen of moisture glows on his skin. On mine too. Our bodies strain and move, every muscle engaged.
Suddenly, his hand fists in my hair.
He pulls me upright, and a startled cry escapes me as his other hand curves around my throat. Not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind me exactly who is in control.
He moves faster.
Harder.
The world tilts.
I’m suspended there, held in place, completely at his mercy. My pulse pounds wildly as pleasure floods every nerve ending.
He feels larger like this.
The heat of his breath brushes my ear, his low moans vibrating against my skin. Bliss spikes violently through me, my body tightening around him instinctively.
His hand slides upward, finding my breast.
“I need you to come for me, princess,” he growls, voice rough and strained. “Now.”
Pleasure detonates.
It crashes over me in waves so intense I cannot brace for them. A cry tears from my throat as my body convulses, gripping him helplessly. The sensation keeps building, cresting again and again until I am trembling in his hold.
He follows with a deep, long moan, his control finally fracturing as he drives into me one last time and finds his release.
For a moment there is nothing but bliss.
The sound of our breathing seeps back into my awareness as his hand loosens at my throat.
My body folds forward, chest heaving, legs unsteady beneath me. The cool marble presses against my forearms, grounding me as Tiero leans in behind me, pressing slow, lingering kisses along my spine while his hands caress my skin.
I love this about him. The tenderness that follows when he takes me roughly.
He possesses my body so effortlessly, knowing exactly how to make it sing. And then he gives back and showers me with affection, softness, and warmth. As if the mind-blowing bliss he just wrung from me were not enough.
The contrast leaves me reeling every time.
The dizzying realization hits me all over again.
I am in far deeper than I ever intended to be.
Our eyes meet in the mirror.
His mouth curves into a satisfied smile.
“Now it’s a good morning.”
I swallow.
I am so screwed.
In every possible way.