I needed to brand her pussy with my cum.
I drove inside her tight sheath in one brutal thrust, my shout of primal pleasure mingling with her ecstatic cry. My fingers returned to her clit, stimulating her with merciless intent.
She shattered on a sudden scream, her inner walls rippling around my dick as I pounded into her. She held one hand braced on the counter, and the other clutched at the crown on her head, her fingers tangling in her glossy hair as she clung on to the glittering adornment that marked her as my queen.
“Say it again,” I demanded, pressing my thumb into her tight little asshole as I claimed her in brutal thrusts. “Scream my name, kitten.”
“I’m yours!” Her entire body thrashed as her orgasm crested, and I released her clit to grab her hip, holding her steady so I could continue rutting into her. “Stefano!”
I came apart on a feral roar, my fingers biting into her tender flesh and trapping her quivering body in place. My cock jerked inside her, my hot seed marking her cunt.
Carmen Ronaldo was all mine.
Chapter 22
Carmen
Three Days Later
“Don’t pout, kitten.” Stefano rubbed his thumb across my lower lip. “I know you don’t like being left alone up here, but I’ll be back soon.”
I blew out a sigh and leaned into his hand, no longer caring to conceal how much I craved the comfort of his touch. “I know. I’m just ready for it to be Friday already so that I can finally get out of this damn penthouse.”
He gave me a wry smile, but his eyes tightened with strain. “I thought you were starting to feel at home here.”
I trailed my fingertips along his jaw, soothing his tension. “I am,” I reassured him. “But I haven’t gotten any fresh air in weeks, and I’m used to spending a lot of time outdoors. I’m starting to get claustrophobic.”
“As soon as we hold your coronation, you can come and go as you please,” he promised, reiterating the plan we’d agreed upon. “I don’t want to risk your security until we’ve made our alliance public. No one will dare to touch you once we’ve established our new regime. Just two more days, and then, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. What about Playa Mazunte? You like the beach, don’t you?”
“How do you know that?” He was right, of course, but I hadn’t shared that fact with him.
He shrugged. “You had a rather large painting of a seascape in your bedroom on your family estate. I’m sorry it was destroyed in the fire, kitten. I can buy you a new painting to replace it.” He grinned, arriving at a solution. “Or better yet, we can buy an oceanfront property with a picture window. How does that sound?”
“It sounds extravagant.” I masked my shock with a dry comment.
The extent of Stefano’s obsession with me no longer disturbed me, but it still caught me off guard at times. The reminder that he’d committed even the smallest details about me to memory for over a decade was jarring. All this time, I’d hated him with every fiber of my being. Apparently, he’d thought of me with equally passionate intensity, but his fixation hadn’t been fueled by hatred.
“Extravagant is appropriate, in this case,” he replied, brushing a kiss over my forehead. “I’ve kept you caged for too long, and I’m going to make it up to you. I know you don’t like being left alone, kitten. You won’t be alone for much longer.”
I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, anchoring him to me. “I know,” I declared fiercely, my words holding so much more weight than simply discussing the next few days of isolation. “We have each other now, Stefano. I…I’m glad about that.”
I swallowed the words that had been teasing at the back of my tongue for days. As much as I cared for Stefano—and I fully believed he cared for me—I would be a fool to think he was capable of romantic love. If I said I love you, I suspected he would say it back because he would want me to be happy.
But he wouldn’t truly mean it. Not in the way I did.
The prospect of hearing him say the words but knowing they were a pretty lie was far more painful than simply accepting the reality that love wasn’t an option with Stefano. He was obsessive, possessive, and attentive. His strange brand of affection was overwhelming enough. I could live without I love you.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat, berating myself for my unreasonable grief. Finding contentment and safety with Stefano was more than I ever could have hoped for in my life. Getting sentimentally weepy because he didn’t fit some cookie cutter version of a happily ever after was beyond ridiculous and self-indulgent.