Chapter 15
POV: Amanda
Adrian carried me up the stairs like I weighed nothing, my stomach pressed against his shoulder, the world tilting with every step. My fists pounded his back, though weakly, because I couldn’t stop laughing.
“Put me down,” I hissed, breathless. “You’re insane.”
He didn’t answer until he kicked his bedroom door shut and set me on my feet—except he didn’t let me go. His hands stayed at my waist, hot and commanding, pulling me tight against him.
“You were perfect with her,” he murmured, his mouth grazing my jaw. “Sharp. Steady. I love watching you like that—strategic, fearless.” His lips brushed the shell of my ear, making my knees wobble. “My mother isn’t so bad, mia volpe. But you… you’re better.”
Heat coiled low in my stomach. His words undid me more than his hands ever could. I was trained to command, to investigate, to see through lies. And yet with him, every wall crumbled. With him, I followed. And God—I loved it.
“You’re insane,” I whispered, but it came out shaky, needy.
His smirk brushed mine. “And you love it.” A teasing kiss. Then his voice, velvet and steel: “I’m the king, volpe. And now I’m your king.”
Pleasure spiked through me, weakening my legs. He kissed me gently at first, commanding in his softness the same way he did in everything else. But nothing between us stayed gentle for long.
He devoured me, hard and deep, his tongue tangling with mine until I forgot how to breathe. His hands slid over my waist, under my blouse, gripping my ass. Sparks raced across my body, pulling me under.
Clothes vanished in the chaos—his jacket on the floor, my blouse peeled away slow, almost reverent. His mouth trailed fire across the swell of my breasts, just above my bra, making me gasp.
“Adrian…”
He bit softly, soothed it with his tongue, all while sliding my zipper down. I shoved at his shirt, desperate, until he tore it over his head. Every line of muscle revealed, every scar. My fingers traced his chest, lingering over the scar from the bullet wound.
“You undo me,” he groaned, catching my wrist and kissing it like it was sacred.
“From the first day—you undid me. The only reason I let them hire a bodyguard was because you looked like a puzzle I needed to decipher. And now, I don’t just want to solve you. I want to kiss you. Fuck you. Worship you.”
I dropped to my knees before I could overthink, hunger clawing through me.
“Amanda—” His breath fractured when I freed him from his pants, his cock thick and hard in my hands. Just the weight of him made my mouth water.
“Christ,” he hissed when I wrapped my lips around him, my eyes locked on his face as I licked and sucked. The king—my king—undone in my mouth.
Slow at first, I savored him, the salty taste, the velvet heat. His hips twitched, searching for more, and it wrecked me with power. His hand slid into my hair—not forcing, just anchoring—while his groans tore through me.
“Amanda—enough—” His voice was wrecked, fraying.
But I didn’t stop. I wanted him to break for me.
“Stop—God, if you don’t—” His curse turned into a strangled groan as he spilled into my mouth. I swallowed him down, every drop, until his whole body shuddered.
When I rose, his eyes burned with disbelief.
“You called me insane,” he rasped, kissing me hard, tasting himself on my tongue. “But you—you are too perfect to be real.”
In one motion, he hauled me onto the bed, stripping me of the last of my clothes. His fingers hooked in my panties, sliding them down torturously slow, leaving me bare and trembling.
His mouth followed, hot kisses down my body until I couldn’t breathe. And then—
“Oh, God—” I cried out as his tongue closed over my clit. Pleasure surged like fire through my veins, my body shaking, clutching at his shoulders, his hair, anything. With Adrian, everything was sharper, deeper, like he rewrote every nerve in my body.
“Adrian—” It was plea and warning tangled together.
He looked up, wicked smile glistening against me. “Your turn, my queen.”
His tongue circled me, slow at first, deliberate, like he wanted to taste every secret I’d ever kept. Then he sucked—hard—pulling a strangled cry from my throat. My hips jerked up, desperate, shame forgotten, need swallowing me whole.
“Adrian—God, please—”
He hummed against me, the vibration shooting straight through my bones. “Così dolce,” he murmured against my skin. So sweet. “So fucking sweet, tesoro…”
My thighs trembled around his head, but he only pressed them wider, holding me open with ruthless devotion. His mouth worked me like he was starving, tongue teasing, lips sucking, dragging me to pieces.
And then—his finger slid inside me. Slow. Deep. Stretching me until I gasped, my hands gripping his hair, pulling like I’d drown if I let go.
“Adrian!”
“Sì, amore… prendi me…” His voice was wrecked, dark with hunger, his finger curling inside me in perfect rhythm with his tongue on my clit. Each motion struck sparks, every nerve lit until I couldn’t tell pleasure from pain.
I wasn’t a virgin. But with Adrian? I may as well have been. This wasn’t sex—it was a conquest. A claiming. He was teaching me what it meant to be undone by an Italian king, and I was helpless to resist.
“Oh my God—Adrian—I can’t—”
“You can.” He looked up at me, lips glistening, eyes blazing green fire. “Voglio guardarti venire per me. I want to watch you come.”
His words alone nearly broke me, and when his mouth sealed over me again, sucking, while his fingers worked harder, deeper—my body snapped. Pleasure ripped through me like lightning, raw and merciless, dragging a scream from my chest as I shattered against his mouth.
I collapsed, trembling, barely breathing. But he didn’t give me time to recover. Adrian surged up, lips crushing mine, making me taste myself on his tongue. His cock pressed hard against my thigh, thick and throbbing, and I ached for it like I never had for anything.
“You’re mine, Amanda,” he growled against my lips. “Sempre.”
He flipped me effortlessly, pulling me on all fours before I even caught my breath. My heart hammered as I felt him behind me, the blunt heat of his cock nudging against me. My entire body shook with anticipation.
“Adrian…”
“Shh, volpe. Ti scopo bene adesso. I’m going to fuck you right.” His hand pressed between my shoulder blades, lowering me, while his other gripped my hip in steel.
The first thrust stole my soul. He filled me in one long, relentless stroke, so thick, so deep, I cried out, clutching the sheets like they could anchor me.
“Christ—you’re so tight—” he hissed, his control fraying as his hips slammed into mine. “Like you were made for me.”
Each thrust was brutal, perfect, his body commanding mine the way his voice always did. My cries turned to desperate moans, the rhythm pounding through me until I forgot everything except him.
“I can’t—” I gasped, tears pricking my eyes from the sheer force of it. “Adrian, I—”
“Yes you can. Sopporta. Take it, my queen. Take all of me.” His words broke into a groan, his pace quickening, driving me closer, higher, until I was nothing but raw nerve and need.
The orgasm slammed into me, violent and consuming, dragging my scream from the depths of my chest. My body convulsed around him, milking him, pulling him deeper, and he followed with a ragged growl, spilling into me as his grip bruised my hips.
He collapsed against my back, his breath hot against my neck, both of us trembling, destroyed and remade in the same instant.
I was still shaking when he whispered, voice wrecked but certain:
“You weren’t just mine tonight, Amanda. You’re mine sempre. Forever.”