Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Elsa
He’s kissing me like he’s trying to crawl inside my soul.
His tongue slides against mine, and I can taste myself on him. It’s dirty and depraved, and it makes me want to do things I’ve never even thought of before.
He’s still inside me, heavy and hard, stretching me out past the point of pleasure. Almost pain. I feel like I’m going to die if he doesn’t move.
"Antonio," I gasp against his mouth. "Fuck me."
He starts to move, and this new angle is devastating. I feel him everywhere. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire. He’s hitting a spot deep inside me, a place no one has ever touched before, and it’s sending sparks through my entire body.
"Right there," I moan, my head falling back against the couch cushions. "Don't stop. Don't ever fucking stop."
"Never," he growls, and he speeds up, his thrusts becoming harder, more demanding. "You're mine. You've always been mine."
My hands are on his ass, pulling him deeper into me, trying to merge our bodies into one. I want to crawl into his skin and stay there. I want to feel him everywhere. I want to drown in him.
My thoughts tumble one over the other, but I can't make sense of them. I’m lost in him, lost in the pleasure, lost in the way he’s making me feel.
He's right.
I have always been his.
From the moment I saw him, standing there in the ballroom, looking at me like he could see right through me, right through all my armor, to the woman underneath, the one who was just as hungry, just as desperate for a connection, just as alone as he was.
I was terrified of him.
I am terrified of him.
Because he’s the only one who has ever seen me.
And I’m terrified of what he’ll do with that power.
I cup his face with my hands, bring his lips to mine.
"I can’t get enough of you." He bites my lip. "You’re so fucking wet for me. So fucking tight."
"Antonio," I gasp. "Look at me."
He does, and the look in his eyes is my undoing. It's raw. It's vulnerable. It's hungry. It's a look that says he’s just as lost as I am.
Don't hurt me.
The words echo in my mind but never reach my lips.
He’s the one person who could destroy me, and I’m lying here, completely open, completely vulnerable, letting him into my body, letting him into my soul.
The realization is terrifying.
And it’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever felt.
My orgasm builds, a slow burn deep in my core. It’s different this time. Deeper. More intense. It’s not just a release of pleasure, it’s a release of something more. Something I can't name. Something I'm not ready to face.
He feels it too. I know he does.
His movements become more deliberate. More focused. He’s not just fucking me anymore. He’s claiming me.
"Hold onto me, dolcezza," he murmurs against my lips. "I've got you."
I do. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.
And then the wave hits, crashing over me, pulling me under. My body convulses, my back arches, and I scream his name. It’s not a sound of pleasure, but of release. Release of everything I’ve been holding inside for so long. The fear. The loneliness. The hunger.
It all comes pouring out of me, and Antonio is there to catch it all.
He follows me over the edge with a guttural groan, his body shuddering against mine as he spills inside me. He buries his face in my neck, and I feel the hot, damp puff of his breath against my skin.
We lie there for a long time, a tangle of limbs and slick skin, our heartbeats gradually slowing, our breath mingling in the quiet room.
I don't want to move. I don't want this moment to end.
Because I know, when it does, I'll have to face the consequences.
I'll have to face the fact that I’ve just broken every rule I set for myself.
I'll have to face the fact that I'm in love with Antonio Conti.
And that, I realize, is the most terrifying thing of all.
He finally stirs, lifting his head to look at me. His eyes are soft, the raw hunger replaced by something gentler. Something that looks a lot like affection.
He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw.
"Hey," he says, his voice a low rumble.
"Hey," I whisper back.
A slow smile spreads across his face, and my heart does that stupid little flip-flop it always does when he looks at me like that.
"You okay?" he asks.
"I'm better than okay," I say, and it's the truth. I feel light. Free.
For the first time in a long time, I feel whole.
"Good," he says, and he leans in to kiss me. It's deep and consuming and takes my breath away. We sink into each other again, neither of us in a rush to move.
When we finally come up for air, he's still inside me, still half-hard, and the feel of him, the intimate connection, sends a fresh wave of arousal through me.
He shifts, but I tighten my thighs around his hips.
"Stay," I say, my voice a needy whisper.
He stills.
I don't know what I'm asking for. Another round. A few more minutes. A lifetime. All of it and none of it.
"I don't want to crush you," he says gently. He is a big man, all muscle and bone, and he is lying on me.
I tighten my legs, holding him in place, my heels digging into the small of his back. I'm not ready to let him go. I don't think I'll ever be ready to let him go.
He rests his forehead against mine, and I can feel the gentle puff of his breath on my lips.
"Elsa," he murmurs, and the sound of my name on his lips is a caress.
"Don't leave," I whisper, and I hate how vulnerable I sound.
"Never," he says, and he kisses me again, a soft, sweet kiss that promises more.
He starts to move again, a slow, lazy rhythm that has me arching against him, my body eager for more.
"I'm not going to break you, Elsa," he murmurs against my lips. "I just want to ruin you for anyone else."
His hips rock against me, and I feel him harden fully inside me.
"You already did," I say, and it's the truest thing I've ever said. "Since that first night. Before I even knew who you were."