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“I’m loving you, Grace.” He whispered it to her against her belly, unable to contain the truth. The feeling was overwhelming and so huge it spilled out of him until he had no choice but to tell her. “I’ll never stop.”

She went still, her hips quiet, and her gaze widened to drift over his face. “I never want you to stop, Vittorio. No matter what, I’m staying with you for as long as you want me. We’ll see it through together.”

He let himself look his fill, drinking her in, and then he couldn’t look anymore because his eyes were burning. He lowered her legs to the floor and rose over her to find her mouth with his, sharing her taste, half expecting her to turn away, but she didn’t. She kissed him, that slow burn he needed from her, igniting a hundred explosions in his belly, all the while conveying absolute love.

“I want you on your hands and knees, gattina.”

Her eyes searched his and then she moved, rolling over obediently, her face to the fireplace. He rubbed her buttocks, loving the look and feel of her. His hand settled on the nape of her neck, pushing her head toward the floor very gently.

“I’m going to take you hard and fast. It will be rough. You have to protect your shoulder, Grace, so lower yourself all the way down and put more weight on your good shoulder.”

She turned her head to look back at him but lowered her upper body more until she was resting on her elbows, her good shoulder taking most of her weight. He rubbed her bottom again, tracing his finger along the seam of her cheeks and then leaning in to nip with his teeth until she gave a little yelp and pushed back toward his hand.

He knelt up behind her, his cock heavy in his hand. He wasn’t going to last nearly as long as he would want to. Not with the firelight playing over her body the way it was. Not with her kneeling, presenting herself to him the way she was. He pressed the thick, flared head of his cock into the scorching heat waiting for him. She gasped, and he looked down at her face.

She was looking at him with her green eyes, those long feathery lashes framing them. There was that look he would never get enough of—the one that told him she definitely belonged to him. Watching her face, he slammed home, driving through her tight folds to bury himself as deep as possible. A streak of fire threatened to engulf his cock in fiery flames as her sheath closed around him, seeking to grasp and hold him tight enough to strangle him.

The air rushed from his lungs. He heard her sharp little cry, abruptly cut off as she gasped for breath. He caught her hips in his hands and began to move. Hard. Fast. Just like he’d promised her. Deep every time. The scorching heat was almost too much. Her channel was so tight he wasn’t certain if he was feeling pleasure or pain. It didn’t matter, because the combination was perfection. He couldn’t stop. He wanted to live right there, with the fire burning him clean.

It was too good. He knew it even as he resolved to prolong his time inside her. Every bit of his discipline seemed to fly out the open doors into the night as he slammed into her over and over, riding her hard, never wanting this time to be over. He felt her muscles clamp down and then her sheath was rippling around him.

“No.” He groaned it, knowing she would take him with her. He was too close. There was no pulling back.

Her breath whistled out of her and the wave grew larger and stronger, sweeping him up, pouring all around him until her body was a vise. She burned him in a silken fist that refused to let up, only tightened more, so much so that he felt her every heartbeat pounding into his cock. Blood thundered in his ears. Roared through his veins. Roiled in his belly and centered in his groin so that his release started in his toes and swept upward, consuming him. Destroying him. Killing him. He felt every wild jerk of his cock in tune to the rhythmic clamping down of her scorching channel around him. Over and over, hot jets splashed her walls, coating her, triggering heavier shocks.

The explosion was all-consuming, enveloping the two of them, sending them soaring. He held on to her tightly, his cock shuddering, his body trembling, as hers rippled and pulsed around his. Her cries were a soft counterpoint to his guttural and very harsh gasp of her name. Grace. His woman.

He had the presence of mind to ease her legs out straight so she was lying flat on her belly as he collapsed over top of her, still pulsing, still buried in her. She took his weight, even though there was no give in the floor beneath the rug. His lungs refused to draw air as her body continued to milk his. Pleasure swamped him. Stayed. His heart beat too loudly. Too fast. Chaos reigned in his brain. His world had narrowed to this one woman, her body and his connected just as their shadows were. Sharing. Riding that wave of pure passion together.


Tags: Christine Feehan Shadow Riders Fantasy