“You think I don’t know what you’ve been dreaming about since the night I dragged you from that stage?”
“You ruined my entire evening.” He scared me shitless, and now he’s got me puddling in his hands.
“And now I’m going to ruin your self-control.”
When his mouth covers mine, I can’t even try to resist. I want him—bad—and he knows it. I can feel how soaked my panties are every time he brushes his knuckles over them. “Tell me to stop, then… That you don’t want this.”
I whimper, biting my lip as he scrapes his stubble along my jawline until his breath is hot in my ear, and all I can do is grip the lapels of his suit jacket and pull him closer.
“That’s what I thought, Bella.” Salvatore’s hips grind against me and his hard cock is so obvious. My hands float to the fly of his slacks and I begin undoing them.
“I hate you,” I tell him as I work the zipper open and pull him out.
“Then hate me with your legs wrapped around my waist.” When his lips claim mine again, the kiss is searing and his hand finds my sopping core, pushing past my panties to sink into me.I’m a whimpering, blubbering mess as he fingers me and sucks heavy breaths and moans from my lips.
“You think I’m scared of you?” I ask him, breathless as he continues rubbing my clit with the heel of his palm while he fingers me.
“No. You’re scared of how much you want this.” His lips cover mine again, and I wrap my hand around his thick girth, stroking him.
“You’re arrogant,” I hiss.
“You’re soaked.”
“Don’t touch me,” I snap, but I don’t mean it. This man could devour me sinfully and I would spread my legs wider.
“Then stop grinding on my hand.”
“I hate you.” My neck arches back as he looses my jaw and lifts the rest of my skirt out of the way as he grabs his dick and slides my panties to the side.
“Keep saying it. Moan it when I fuck you.”
My back is still against the wall as he enters me in one swift, forceful motion. I moan loudly, burying my face in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound. He's so deep, so much deeper than any of the other men I've been with before. He feels... right, and it infuriates me. His thrusts are relentless, driving into me over and over again, his hands bruising my thighs as he holds me in place.
“Look at you. Spread open like you’ve been waiting for this,” Salvatore growls in my ear, his thrusts relentlessly pounding into me. The way he says the words makes me shudder, and I clench around him involuntarily.
"If you’re going to claim me, you'd better make me crawl," I pant, and he angles his hips just right, brushing against a spot inside me that makes my toes curl. "Oh, fuck...”
His hand travels up to my breast, squeezing it roughly as he continues to thrust into me. "I’ll make you crawl, all right—backto me, every time someone else tries to touch you," he says with a wicked grin. His fingers find my nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, and I can't do anything but shriek and claw at his chest.
“You want me crawling back? Ruin me enough that I don’t forget.” His dominance, his possession, it's all so wrong, yet it feels so right. And as he continues to pound into me, I can feel my climax building, threatening to consume me.
“After this, even your body will know who it belongs to. Every time you clench, you’ll remember me inside you.” His thrusts become more demanding and my fingers find my clit, rubbing it furiously. “Now break for me… right fucking now…”
Salvatore's dirty words and rough touches send a delicious shiver down my spine, and I can't hold back anymore. My pussy clenches and my body begins to convulse. His thrusts are ragged and greedy, stroking the spot inside me that makes me see fireworks when I shut my eyes.
“Look at me while you break,” he demands. “I want you to know who fucking owns you.” His hand grips my face again as he says, “Come on my cock like you were made for it.”
“Oh, God,” I whimper as I feel him explode inside me. His cock pulses and the throbbing warmth floods me.
“You take every drop. You fucking keep it,” he growls, and his thrusts begin to slow.
I don't look away again, and the visceral glare he holds me under pins me against the wall even as his cock slips out of me—as my dress falls around my legs, as his cum drains down my inner thigh, and as my palms splay on the cold tile.
I'm breathless—shocked, even. And all he can do is tuck his dick away and zip up. My hands shake slightly as I smooth the emerald silk back into place. The mirror reflects a woman I barely recognize—disheveled, flushed, transformed by surrender I never intended to give. Salvatore watches mefrom where he leans against the marble sink, his shirt partially buttoned, hair mussed from my fingers.
"The dinner—" he begins.
"No." I cut him off, my voice steadier than I feel. "I need to go."
