Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 43928 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43928 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
This time, the dark isn't quiet but filled with the echo of his name.
His eyes lock with mine as I shudder through the aftershocks, his gaze burning with primal satisfaction. The air crackles with something fierce and unspoken, a wild promise hanging heavy as he rises with the grace of a predator.
He watches me like a silent guardian of my unraveling as he methodically removes each piece of his expensive clothing, revealing the hard, sculpted lines of the body molded by power and discipline. When he's finally bare before me, my breath catches at the sheer force of his presence. He's beautiful and intimidating, a masterpiece carved from darkness and light.
Without a word, he returns to me, flipping me onto my back. His hands frame my face with undeniable ownership. "Look at me."
I'm helpless to do anything but obey. There's an intensity to his voice that feels like it's peeling back every layer of my soul.
"I'm claiming what belongs to me now, Aurelia," he says. "And I'm giving you what belongs to you. Do you understand?"
"I…" I shake my head.
"You asked if I'd belong to you, and I said yes. I'll belong only to you, Aurelia." He brushes his thumb along my bottom lip. "No one else has ever had this part of me. It's all yours, little mouse."
My core clenches, a blast of heat ripping through me. "Mattia," I whisper, stunned.
"Every inch of you is mine to possess. And I'm yours in the same way." He positions himself at my entrance, and I feel the hot head of him pressing insistently.
My heart pounds against my ribcage, anticipation coiling tight in my belly. With one hard thrust, he's inside me, tearing through my barrier. The stretch is sudden and sharp but quickly overshadowed by a surge of pleasure so intense it borders on pain.
I shout his name, writhing on the edge of heaven.
His hand finds its way around my throat, not squeezing, but firm enough to anchor me in the here and now—beneath him, filled by him.
Emotion flares in his eyes—hot, wild, blazing like the sun. There's so damn much of it.
"Mine," he growls. "Do you hear me, cara mia? You're mine."
"Yes!" I sob.
He begins to move, setting a punishing rhythm that robs me of anything but the sensation of him inside me. His thrusts are relentless, driving deeper with each stroke.
He feels so good. So damn good. But it's not enough. I want more. I need more.
"Mattia," I sob, my hands clenching around his upper arms. "I need…I need…" I don't know what I need!
"Fight me," he growls.
"W-what?"
"Fight me, Aurelia." His hand tightens on my throat. "You wanted to forget everything outside this room? Work for it, little mouse. Fight me and make it hurt." The intensity in his steely eyes ignites a fire within me—one that burns with a mix of fear and exhilaration.
I meet his challenge, my nails digging into the broad expanse of his back, leaving trails of raw passion and wild desperation.
He shudders above me, a low chuckle vibrating from his chest, sounding both pained and pleased. "That's it, amore mio," he encourages as he increases the force of his thrusts, each one sending electric shocks through every nerve in my body.
And this right here? This is what I needed. This is heaven. Nothing else exists but him and the way he moves inside me.
His fingers tighten around my throat, a silent reminder of his control—control he's both granting me the power to contest and commanding me to acknowledge. It's a maddening duality that pushes me further into the abyss.
I reach up, my fingers tangling in his short hair, pulling hard enough to elicit a deep, approving rumble from his chest. He doesn't slow down. If anything, his movements become harsher, each thrust pushing me further into that place where ecstasy and pain blend in the perfect storm.
Mattia leans down to my ear, his hot breath sending shivers racing through me. "You like this?" he murmurs, biting the lobe gently before sucking it into his mouth. "Is this what you wanted, cara mia?"
"Yes," I gasp, overwhelmed by the intensity of him.
"You're so beautiful when you fight," he continues as he moves within me. "So fierce and fiery." His hands roam over my body possessively, exploring every curve as if committing them to memory. His touch is both tender and punishing—a contradiction only he could embody so perfectly.
He lifts me higher to grant him deeper access.
I arch against him, driven by an instinctive need to match his ferocity.
I bite his shoulder hard enough to make him grunt in response—a sound that vibrates through my entire body.
"Harder," I gasp, lost in the storm he's stirred to life inside me.
He doesn't falter or hesitate. "You want it harder? Then take it," he growls. There's an unmistakable thrill in his tone that tells me how much he relishes this—the push and pull of our bodies, the pleasure of pain. The fight.