My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon - Lauren Landish Page 0,82

fortunate I am, and all the filthy things I want to do her. She doesn’t understand a word, but still, her hips buck in the air as she looks for relief from this ache.

I rip my shirt off and drop my swimsuit to the floor. “Mia rosa,” I say gently as I line up with her pussy. It’s her one last chance, one last kindness I can offer before I unleash on her.

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control. Clean,” she moans.

“Me too,” I grunt as I split her open with a single thrust. “Ugh, yes.”

We’ve had tender moments talking on the beach and in bed after slow and sweet lovemaking. We’ve had naughty moments like nearly coming in the middle of yoga class and long, torturous orgasms pulled from the depths of our souls. But never have we just rutted like a pair of wild animals, my hips slamming into Abigail’s ass again and again. But while my cock claims her pussy, she looks over her shoulder and her lips claim mine.

I feel like a man and an animal all at once, my cock spearing her to send waves of pleasure smashing through her body. She doesn’t fuck me back. I’m in control, holding her hips as I pound into her. But she grips the blanket with one hand and reaches back to grab my ass with the other, urging me deeper and harder.

“Oh, my God, yes! More, Lorenzo—” she pants out. “Claim every inch of me. Make me yours.”

Fuck yes. It hits me like a shot of pure white lightning. That’s what I want. For Abigail Andrews to be mine. Not just her body, not just for this moment of wild passion, but in truth.

I growl, my words coming in short grunts of Italian as I speed up.

“Il mio . . .” Mine.

“Sempre . . .” Always.

“Mia rosa . . .amore.” My rose . . . love.

“Amore,” Abigail repeats. She doesn’t speak Italian, but that’s a pretty obvious one. Looking back at me, her eyes are dark and vulnerable, asking if I mean what she means. She won’t give me any more of her heart until she’s sure.

I’m sure. In this moment, I am surer of this than I’ve ever been of anything. Violet’s warning should ring through my head, but it doesn’t. Not at all.

I am simply lost in Abigail—her beauty, her passion, her boldness, and even her quirky weirdness, as she calls it.

“Come, Abigail,” I beg her, holding back so fiercely that I’m trembling on the edge.

I hold her upright, my arms wrapping across her chest and hips to keep her pressed to my body. Every inch of us is connected, at the skin level and so much deeper. I tease a finger over her clit and instantly feel her clench down on me as she cries out, and then the pulsing rhythm of her pussy triggers my own orgasm.

We buck into each other, jets of my cum filling her as I rub her clit in smooth circles to draw out more and more pleasure for us both.

I’ve never felt anything like that—a climax that’s as much mind as it is body.

I feel as though I did claim her. She’s mine, but also . . . I am hers.

Surprisingly, I feel no cage from that. Not the way I always feared I would. I feel at peace with Abigail in my arms.

In the post-orgasmic bliss, we’re spent and sweating, making promises with our tongues beyond words.

“So beautiful,” I whisper. “So special.”

Abigail is about to say something in return but a sound pulls my attention. Or rather, a lack of sound.

I put my finger to her lips, tilting my head to listen.

“What?” she says around my finger.

“It’s quiet, too quiet,” I tell her, and I can see the dawning realization on her face. The quiet rumble of the engine, which has thrummed through the boat from the moment we climbed aboard, has stopped.

“Why aren’t we moving?” Abigail asks.

I shrug, not having any idea. This night cruise is more party ship, not swimming or snorkeling, and those are the only reasons we should be stopped.

Unless something is wrong.

Because we are definitely dead in the water.

Chapter 16

Abi

The mood of a moment ago evaporates in an instant as Lorenzo’s wide eyes meet my even wider ones. I jump up, flipping the skirt of my dress down and digging around on the floor for my bikini top. I pull it around my chest, but my fingers are clumsy and I can’t get