CHAPTER 17 #3
"Quiet. Unless you want them to find us like this," I warn her, my hips driving into her with a steady, punishing rhythm. "Be a good girl and stay silent. Mmm, stay just like that."
I set a frantic, brutal pace. Every movement is fueled entirely by the rage of her betrayal and the terrifying adrenaline of almost watching her die.
Each thrust is deep, possessive, meant to hollow her out and remind her of exactly who owns her body.
I grip the messy, damp hair at the nape of her neck, tilting her head back to watch the way her expression fractures in the dim light.
"You’re mine," I tell her, my voice dark and demanding. "Tell me... tell me you’re mine. Harder? You want it harder?"
She whines against my glove, her head thrashing against my hand, but she arches her back, pressing her chest flush against my tactical plates to take me deeper.
I lean my face into the hollow of her neck, murmuring dark, filthy Italian curses against her freezing skin.
I suck a hard, dark bruise into the soft tissue right above her collarbone, marking her where her brother’s men will see it if they ever get close enough.
"Puttana..." I rasp, my breath hot against the bite mark. "Mia. Solamente mia. You’re never going back to them."
The rough bark of the pine tree scrapes loudly through the fabric of her jacket with every hard thrust I deliver, grounding her entirely in the violent, messy reality of what we’re doing.
I reach down between our bodies, my calloused fingers finding her core, adding a slick, searing friction to the encounter.
"Does that hurt?" I ask, my thumb circling exactly where she needs it. "Good. Remember the pain. Don't stop moving for me."
Fiorella wraps one leg even higher around my thick thigh to anchor herself, her fingernails digging desperately into the heavy Cordura fabric of my tactical vest, scratching at the nylon like she’s trying to tear through to my actual heart.
She is completely done fighting me. She’s clinging to my shoulders, her chest rising and falling violently against mine.
"Angelo... please," she begs, her voice small, broken, escaping from under my palm.
"Please what, Fiorella?" I push, my fingers working her mercilessly.
"Don't... don't stop."
"I’m not fucking stopping." I shift my angle, tangling my hand tighter into her mud-streaked chestnut hair, jerking her head back to expose her throat fully to the cold air.
I kiss the jumping pulse point on her neck, my movements becoming entirely feral as the pressure in my groin builds to a blinding peak.
"Look at the sky. Even the stars know you belong to me. Yes, just like that."
The harsh friction of our gear rubbing together—the scrape of nylon, the clinking of metal buckles, the slap of wet skin—creates this gritty, rhythmic soundtrack to our desperation. I readjust my grip on her waist, my thumbs digging bruises into her hip bones as I drive in relentlessly.
"Almost there," I grit out, my muscles burning, the sweat rolling down my freezing back. "Hold on to me. Don't let go."
I hit the climax like a fucking train crash.
The release is white-hot, built entirely on dominance and the lingering terror of losing her.
I drive into her one last, brutal time and freeze, my entire body shuddering violently.
I bury my face deep in her wet hair, letting out a jagged, gravelly growl that I try to muffle against her neck.
"Cazzo... Fiorella!" I groan, my eyes squeezing shut against the darkness. "Stay... right there. Mine."
She unravels against me right at the exact same second.
Her internal muscles clamp down hard around me, milking the release, and she lets out a desperate, muffled cry against the palm of my glove.
She completely collapses forward, her heavy head hitting my shoulder, the last shreds of her resistance dissolving into the cold forest air.
I feel a long, shuddering sob tear through her chest, completely lost against my leather palm.
"I... I hate you," she cries weakly, her voice vibrating against my hand.
I pull my hand away slowly, letting her breathe the freezing air. I trace her swollen lower lip with my dirty thumb. "I know you do," I tell her, my voice deadpan. "But you’re still here."
We stay collapsed against each other for a long moment, our chests heaving perfectly in unison.
We are a fucking mess of sweat, mud, and freezing mist. Two animals tethered together in the dark.
I withdraw from her slowly, the cold air rushing in to replace the heat.
I step back, adjusting my gear, ignoring the ache in my thighs.
I pull her pants back up for her, efficiently yanking the zippers and securing the Velcro without an ounce of gentleness.
"We have to go," I say, my voice totally stripped of whatever just happened between us.
She leans heavily against the bark, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. "I can't... I can't walk."
I grab her by the strap of her vest, pulling her off the tree and shoving her forward toward the trail. "You will. Because I’m telling you to."