Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
"You're not wearing a condom."
He looks at me, something dark and possessive in his gaze. "You're mine, Amalia. I'm taking you bare. There is no one but you. There hasn't been anyone but you since before you were born. There won't ever be anyone but you."
"I could get pregnant," I whisper, my stomach quivering at the thought. Not in fear, not in revulsion, but in…excitement. God help me, but I like the thought of carrying this man's child.
"Good," he grunts, that possessive darkness growing. He dips his head, putting his lips next to my ear. "You think I wouldn't be happy to breed you here and now, mi reinita? You think I wouldn't want to bring your child into this world?" He laughs quietly. "Little girl, I'm fucking dying to plant my kid in you."
"Rafe," I moan.
"Be a good little queen and try not to scream too loud when I do it, Amalia," he says. "Don't make me kill every man in this house who hears you screaming for your king."
Oh my God.
I go limp beneath him, a mini-orgasm quaking through me.
He chuckles, a wicked, devilish sound that sets fire to my veins. And then I feel his teeth in my skin.
A moment later, he rocks his hips forward, pushing into me. I moan loudly, so turned on, I can't even think straight. He licks and kisses my neck, sending my thoughts scattering in every direction as the head of his cock slips inside.
It burns a little, but it doesn't hurt.
"Rafe," I moan.
He pushes forward again, slipping in another inch. The burn intensifies slightly. Mostly, I feel stretched and full…and a little bit wicked. He's been tormenting me for hours now, slowly driving me out of my mind. Now, it's my turn.
"You feel so good," I whisper, turning my face so my mouth is next to his ear. "You're inside me, Rafe. You have what no one else will ever have. I'm yours."
Rafe roars…and breaks. He snaps his hips forward, impaling me on him in one swift thrust. A flash of pain washes through me, there and gone so quickly I barely feel it. I know what it means though. I know what it signifies. He just broke my hymen. He really does have a piece of me now that no one else ever will. I belong to him in a way that nothing and no one can ever undo or erase—not time, not distance, not even death.
"Fuck," he curses, breathing raggedly. "Are you okay, tesoro?"
"Perfect," I whisper through tears. "I'm perfect, Rafe."
"You're crying."
"I'm happy," I say, staring up at him. "You make me happy."
The worry bleeds from his eyes, his expression softening. "I know the feeling, tesoro."
I think maybe he does. I think if anyone understands what it's like to live life in a cage, this man does. His may be more luxurious than mine, but it's a cage, nonetheless. Neither of us have ever been free. Neither of us have ever known true happiness. We've both snatched fleeting moments from beneath the blades of the swords hanging over our heads, but they never lasted long. This moment though…this one has the makings of forever.
"Make love to me," I whisper, tilting my face up to his in a silent demand for kisses. "Make me yours."
"You're already mine."
"Then prove it. Baciami." Kiss me.
He growls. And he kisses me. Until I'm breathless and dizzy and more in love with him than I was even five minutes ago. God, I love him. I'm not falling. I already hit the ground, face first. I'm madly, wildly, desperately in love with this beautiful, complicated man.
His hips roll against mine, sending ripples of pleasure through my body. I gasp in shock, in delight, in ecstasy.
"You like that, huh?" he asks, chuckling. And then he does it again. And again. He pushes into me and then slides back, impaling me on him over and over again, hitting spots inside that have stars bursting behind my eyelids.
I cry out his name loud and then louder, clutching him to me. The louder I get, the harder he takes me. The harder he takes me, the louder I get. It's as if we feed off one another, our lovemaking growing wilder, more frenzied. He flips me onto my stomach, lifting my hips into the air before slamming back inside me.
My nipples drag against the blankets with every deep thrust.
"Fuck," he growls. "Spread your cheeks apart with your hands, tesoro. Let me see that pretty pink hole."
I should be embarrassed or offended or…something. But I'm not. With him, I feel no shame. I do exactly what he demands, willingly, without question. And he loves it.
"God yeah," he groans, and I know he's staring, looking at me right there as he pounds into me. He's deeper this way, so deep he steals my breath with every thrust.