Bloody Heart (Brutal Birthright #4) - Sophie Lark Page 0,83

me ride him in reverse, so he can watch my ass and back flexing. And then he makes me ride him the other way, with my tits bouncing in his face.

It goes on for hours.

I cum again and again. I cum from his fingers and tongue, and most of all from riding him.

The orgasms are intense and wrenching. They crash over me like waves, smashing me beneath their weight. And while I’m still recovering, still limp from pleasure, Dante flips me over and fucks me in a new position.

We’re both drenched in sweat. Our bodies slide against each other, slick and flushed. We don’t stop to drink water, or to rest. We’ll keep going until it kills us.

Finally, I’m done. I can’t take anymore.

Dante climbs on top of me. He fucks me hard, droplets of his sweat pattering down on my bare chest. I can tell he’s ready to let go, and finally cum himself. He fucks me harder and harder, building to his climax. Then he grabs the base of his cock and pulls out of me.

He throws his head back, tendons standing out on his neck and shoulders. His muscles are pumped and swollen from hours of exertion. Veins run down both arms, and down the back of the hand gripping his cock. He roars as the orgasm rips through him. Huge spurts of cum pour out of his cock, splashing down on my bare skin, heavy and hot. He paints my flesh with his cum, long ropes of it across my breasts and belly. It looks white and pearly against my skin.

Then he sits back on the bed, panting and flushed.

Our eyes meet.

I touch the cum on my belly. I bring my fingers to my lips and taste it, to see if it’s just like I remember.

Dante watches me, eyes glittering. He lunges forward and kisses me. He presses me back down on the mattress with his bulk, kissing me long and deep with his hands thrust in my hair. He doesn’t care how sweaty and messy we are. Neither do I.

Our bodies are wrung out and exhausted, but we’re not done with each other. I don’t know if we’ll ever be satisfied. We were too long apart.

Dante pulls back just enough to look in my eyes.

“I never stopped loving you,” he tells me. “I never could.”

I’m about to reply to him, saying the exact same thing.

But then I remember something. One awful fact that Dante doesn’t yet know.

He doesn’t know we have a son. He doesn’t know I kept Henry a secret from him.

He says he could never stop loving me . . . but he doesn’t know the reasons he might do exactly that.

I should tell him. I should tell him right now, I know that . . .

But I’ve waited so long to be in his arms again. Surely I can enjoy it for one night, before risking it all being ripped away from me again . . .

So I don’t tell Dante that one last secret. I just pull him close and I kiss him again and again . . .

32

Dante

I wake up next to the love of my life. The sun is shining in through a gap in the curtains, illuminating her glowing skin. Very gently, so I don’t wake her, I inhale the scent of her hair, which still smells warm and sweet, like sandalwood. She hasn’t changed. Not in any of the ways that matter.

Even though I’m trying not to wake her, her eyes flutter and she nuzzles deeper into my arms, pressing her face against my chest. The feeling of her naked flesh against mine is too much to resist. My cock is already swelling between my legs, pressing against her belly. We only have to rearrange ourselves a little so it slides inside of her.

I fuck her slowly and gently, knowing she might be sore from the night before.

I’ve never experienced sex like that. Raw, primal, animalistic, cathartic. I needed it. I needed it exactly like that. I had to take possession of Simone again. I had to make her mine in every possible way. I had to dominate her to know that she really belonged to me again, and me alone.

Maybe it’s fucked up. But I know she understood it. She wanted it as badly as I did.

We both needed it. We needed to reconnect in a way that no one else could understand or endure. Simone and I are soulmates. Soulmates don’t fuck like normal people.