CHAPTER 31
Roxanne
Before I could come down from the high of the orgasms he had dragged out of me, he lifted me off the counter.Like I weighed nothing and belonged in his arms.
My body was still trembling, still sensitive, every nerve ending alive and raw, and I barely had time to breathe before he was moving, carrying me out of the kitchen. My head fell against his shoulder without thinking.
Because it felt right. Too right. Like my body no longer cared about the rules my mind kept throwing at it.
He tightened his hold on me like if he loosened it, I might disappear. His mouth found the side of my throat—kissing, nipping, memorising, tasting my skin as he carried me to the bedroom.
Two years of his absence had pushed me into a dark place I never wanted to see again. I promised myself I’d never forgive him, yet here I was, in barely a month of being near him, collapsing for him like a house of cards in a storm.
The door slammed open, the sound sharp in the quiet.
He laid me on the bed, chest heaving, hair wild from my constant tugs.
My mouth fell open at the outline of his length beneath his sweatpants.
I felt a new wave of arousal at my core.
I’d never felt this heady. This carnal. This wanton in my own lust.
He let out a frustrated grunt and ripped off my t-shirt like it was a crime to wear one in his presence. His gaze stayed on me, watching, reading, waiting for my reaction. I was only in my lace bra, and his eyes darkened with greed as they landed on my breasts.
His hand moved, slowly, from my stomach up to my bra, palming my breast over it. My body surrendered without permission, moving of its own accord, arching into his touch, chasing his warmth before I could think.
“Sei troppo bella,” he murmured, voice rough, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
He circled my nipple through my bra once before pinching it.
Electricity shot through my body, making my toes curl.
He did it again and again, watching me writhe under his touch.
A helpless moan broke out of me before I could stop it.
He then took off the bra and captured a nipple in his mouth while palming the other.
White light shot behind my eyes as the sensation settled between my legs. He switched between them like he couldn’t decide which one he wanted more. I nearly arched off the bed while grinding my pussy against his arousal through his sweatpants.
I wanted to feel him. All of him. I took off his t-shirt and tugged at the band of his sweatpants, pulling them down.
I wasn’t ready.
I was.
My hand brushed along his length as the fabric slid down, my breath catching at the feel of him—hard, warm.
My finger dragged across his slit, spreading precum along the swollen head of his cock.
My tongue flicked out instantly, before I bit down on my lip.
I wanted to taste him. Wanted to know him the way he seemed to know every part of me.
His hand caught my wrist before I could move further.
“Not now,” he hissed. “I need to be inside you first.”
Everything blurred.
Him. Me.
The line between right and wrong erased.
He dragged his cock from my entrance to my clit, the slow friction sending a sharp wave through me, sending me into a heady frenzy, making my body throb with a need I couldn’t contain. My hips lifting instinctively, chasing the sensation.
This was a mistake.
Then why did it feel like the only thing that had ever made sense?
Then slowly, he pushed into me—overwhelming, unrelenting, nothing held back. And every thought shattered under the sheer reality of him. The vulnerability of it all felt too real, too close—
Despite how ready I was, there was still resistance. His size stretched me in a way that made my breath catch, a sharp, consuming pressure that bordered on pain.
A guttural sound tore from his throat.
“Fuck…” the word slipped out, low, almost disbelieving. “How are you—”
He let out a breath, shaking his head slightly—pushing through the resistance.
“Tight like that?”
My answer came, breathless, barely there.
“Kegels.”
A short laugh broke out of him. Of course he’d find it amusing. He pressed his forehead to mine and kissed the tip of my nose, sinking into me inch by inch. Every nerve in my body lit up like fireworks. He wasn’t even fully in yet, I felt so full.
My hand unconsciously went up, my palm flat against the hard line of his throat, pushing just enough to stall his weight. His eyes widened slightly, then smiled like he enjoyed the slight dominance I had over him.
“No more,” I rasped.
He froze, his breath hitching against my skin. His expression shifted. It was a look that threw me completely off balance.Tenderness.
A dark, surprised smirk cut across his mouth. He didn’t pull away; he just leaned right into the pressure of my hand, looking down at me like he’d never seen me before.
Then, his hand slipped into mine, fingers threading through mine for one brief second before he lifted it above my head and pressed a kiss to my forehead—almost painfully gentle compared to the way he was holding me open beneath him.
“Just a little more,” he growled. “You’re going to take all of me, Volpi. Every inch.”
The promise in his voice unravelled a raw submission inside me, and my body instinctively relaxed on cue. He thrust to the hilt in one motion. The sensation tore through me, force spearing all the way to my throat.
Holy hell.
White spots flared in my vision, the sheer force of it making me see stars as my lungs locked up.
He gave me a second to adjust before nearly pulling all the way out and slamming back hard into me, stretching me, filling me.
The slow pace was driving me insane. It felt so good, but I wanted more.
My legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass, pulling him closer. Needing him deeper.
Was I supposed to feel this good?
He smacked the side of my breast, watching it jiggle, before squeezing it and then holding me in place by my throat, just enough to make my pulse spike. I felt him everywhere. His long, deep strokes made lust erupt like a volcano inside me; I couldn’t escape.
His other hand moved lower, finding my clit, slowly circling it. A helpless sound escaped my throat.
I was losing it. Losing control.
I clawed at his shoulders, and then my fingers tightened in his hair, tugging and pulling. He bit the side of my throat down to my breast, leaving a trail of delicious bruises. Every mark throbbed with a sharp intensity, sending a buzzing rush straight to my core, making me wetter.
My hips jerked, trying to match his rhythm, chasing friction as he kept his pace slow. He kept building me up and changed the pace as soon as I was on edge, refusing to let me fall apart.The bastard kept edging me for his own sadistic pleasure.
“Look at you,” he muttered, voice dragging, dark with satisfaction. “Can’t even stay still.”
“Fuck you.” I managed.
He smiled, hand flexing slightly at my throat.
“Feel that?” he murmured, dragging his mouth lower, slower—deliberate enough to make me shake.
“Everywhere I touch—you react.”
He pinched my clit. Each touch felt magnified, blurring the lines between pleasure and a desperate, aching need to hold on.
“Everywhere I take—you give. And you don’t even realise you’re doing it.”
His mouth found my nipple, and he bit slowly, teasing. I couldn’t hold back any longer, and I shattered around his cock with such intensity.
“Santi—I—oh fuck—”
Pleasure crashed through me so hard it ripped a cry from my throat, my body completely losing control around him. I came so hard my body gave way entirely, wetness soaking the sheets creating a mess.
It wasn’t just my body reacting. Whatever I’d locked away had started cracking too. And for one terrifying second—I didn’t want it to stop. My body craved more.
His eyes dropped between us.
“Fuck.”
Genuine surprise crossed his face. Then his mouth curved slowly.
“Didn’t peg you for a squirter, baby.”
His fingers caressed the inside of my thigh, spreading the wetness with almost obscene tenderness.
“All this for me, Volpi?”
His eyes stayed fixed between my legs, where he was still inside me. Twitching.
“Santi…” I whispered, mortified.
I suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable. Like I’d lost control in the worst way. Like I’d become someone else entirely. Someone reckless. Someone hungry. Someone who had crossed a line she could never uncross. My head turned to the side, guilt hitting sharp, suffocating.
“Don’t you dare hide from me now.”
My eyes lifted back to his. The smugness had faded, and what remained in his expression almost undid me.
Wonder. Pride. Something dangerously close to tenderness.
His thumb stroked my clit again.
“Look at me, Volpi.”
His voice had softened.
“That’s it. Stay with me.”
My eyes never left his. His pace quickened, his head falling back as his stomach tightened, chasing his own release. He collapsed over me and then rolled to the side, holding me. I felt the sudden loss of his weight on me and in me.
“I’m not done with you. I could never get enough of you.”
It was as though he read my thoughts. I didn’t know how long we stayed tangled together afterwards—kissing, touching, simply existing—but neither of us seemed capable of letting go.
“Next time I won’t be so gentle,” he murmured.
A breathless, disbelieving laugh left me.
“You call that gentle? You had your hand wrapped around my throat.”
He leaned in, brushing his lips against the tip of my nose.
“Yeah, Volpi. That was me being gentle.”
His hand tightened at my jaw, his eyes darkening. The playfulness was gone, replaced by a hunger so heavy it pressed down on me like gravity, stripping away every trace of softness.
“But I’m done holding back.”
He nipped my lip.
“Now…” His voice dropped—rough, unsteady in a way that made my pulse spike. “I’m going to fuck you like the monster I am.”
His hand slid to my waist, grip tightening in a possessive way, turning me until I was on my stomach.
“Get on all fours,” he growled.
And I followed his command. He pushed my back down till my face was in the sheets and my ass was in the air, on display for him. For his taking. His mouth found me from behind, tongue dragging, licking, tasting the aftermath of us.
“Hmm.” A deep groan left his throat, vibrating through me.
“We taste so good together.”
Then a sharp smack landed on my ass, making me jolt. I gasped—shock bleeding into heat. His grip tightened immediately after, grounding, not letting me pull away, massaging where his palm made contact.
Another sting hit my other cheek.
“You’ve been walking around in those tiny shorts like you don’t know what it does to me.”
His teeth sank into the curve of my ass, biting, marking. His hands massaged, spreading, squeezing, claiming as his fingers traced my entrance. A whimper escaped me.
“I want to see your ass bounce,” he muttered, voice guttural, “as I plough into you.”
Another hard smack. My body shuddered, heat flooded low, and I knew—this wasn’t gentle anymore. This was him unleashed. This was the part of him he’d spent years burying.
With that, he pushed into me deep in one quick thrust. Before I could even comprehend it, he started moving—rough, relentless—one hand gripping my hip while the other tangled into my hair, fisting it tight and pulling me back just enough to hold me where he wanted me.
“Cazzo,” he grunted. “You’re so fucking tight.”
His fingers dug into my skin, showing me exactly what he meant. His thrusts were harsh, almost punishing—but the jolt of pleasure they sent through my body was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The room filled with nothing but our grunts and the sharp sound of skin against skin.
When the wave of orgasm hit me, it was different. This one I felt under my skin, in my hair, behind my eyes, in my ears. His thrusts were longer, deeper, rougher, painful yet addictive. He reached for my breast and squeezed my nipple. The pleasure bordered on exquisite torture.
“Fall apart for me again.”
And I did.
I just did. A raw, helpless cry tore out of me and echoed through the cottage. My hands fisted into the sheets as a hard shiver racked my entire body, leaving me gasping for air. But he wasn’t done.
“I want to see you as I come, Volpi.”
He flipped me onto my back, lifting my legs to his shoulders. This angle drove him deeper. I was barely coming down from my previous orgasm when another hit. Wetness pooled on the sheets, slick and sticky.
The only thing I could do was focus on him. My own damnation. The crack in my armour—the facade I put up for the world. Every thought tuned out and it was only him and me… in this moment.
Skin to skin.
Breath to breath.
Everything narrowed to sensation on my throbbing clit and how he was filling me with every brutal thrust.
A tiny sob escaped me, and a tear rolled down my cheek.He bent down and licked it.
“Sei bellissima quando ti spezzi per me.”
(You’re so beautiful when you break for me.)
“Look at me,” he said, rough, breath breaking. “I want to see every emotion flashing in those pretty eyes.”
I didn’t even know my eyes had closed. They opened of their own accord.
“That’s it,” he said. “My good girl.”
That did it. My hips instantly moved to meet his rhythm.
“Santi…”
He gripped my hips harder and slammed into me with a force so hard, I was certain the bed moved a few inches.
I was drowning in the sheer sensation of him, overwhelmed by the pleasure vibrating through every nerve until I hovered helplessly on the brink of breaking apart.
“Sa… an… tino… “
“I know you can give me one more.”
“Santi—”
“I know, baby. I know.”
His pace increased; the sound of his balls slapping on my skin echoed through the room. He pinched my nipple and I shattered around his cock.
I’d lost count of how many times I’d come, but he didn’t stop—didn’t slow—driving deeper, harder, until his rhythm broke. His body tensed, an animalistic sound tore out of him as he lost control.
“Fuck—uugghh. Fuck.”
A rush of heat spilled deep inside me—thick, unmistakable, leaving no space for doubt.
My breath caught.
The warmth curdled, sharp, immediate, cutting through the haze of pleasure.
Wait—
He didn’t—
My fingers tightened against his shoulders as reality crashed back in, cold and unforgiving.
And for the first time since he touched me, I felt it—a sudden, suffocating panic that drowned out every trace of want. Because there was nothing between us. No barrier. No protection.
Just him.
Raw and claiming me in the most dangerous way possible.