Page 63 of Tainted Blood
His hands clench briefly.
“Tell me the reason yourself, Santi,” I whisper, enticing a truth from him that he doesn’t want to admit to. “Tell me the word that binds us now. Tell me what you feel for me. Tell me what you’re capable of.”
Refusing to answer, he drops a hand to my shirt. I stand, stock still, as he wrestles with my buttons and his feelings. Pushing the shirt from my shoulders, he buries his face into my neck again.
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“You did, and then you found me.”
“No, Thalia,” he says bitterly. “Not yet… But I will.”
His elbows brush against my back as he rips his T-shirt off. His jeans follow, and then we’re skin on skin again, fighting for purchase in a hailstorm of emotions.
“You need to let me go, Santi,” I whisper. “You need to let me fly away like you did that night. I can’t give you a heart that’s already broken.”
“You want me to admit what we are, only for you to smash it up in the hope we can fix it when your nightmares go away?” He scoffs. “You ask too much.”
“Please, Santi…”
He kicks my feet apart with a growl and pulls my hips back. A beat later, the smooth head of his cock is pushing up against my pussy. “You belong to me, Thalia Carrera. You belong by my side. Somewhere along the way, our deception turned into truth. It’s time you accepted it.”
At this, he drives his cock inside me, stretching my walls around his thick girth, and stealing the breath from my lungs.
“Did they touch you like this, muñequita?” he growls, palming the base of my throat. “Did they touch what’s mine?”
“I killed him before he could,” I whisper.
“He deserves to die a thousand deaths for even thinking about it.” He sinks in deeper. “Dios mío… You’re fucking perfect.”
I’m nowhere near wet enough, but there’s never been a sweeter pain.
He needs this as much as I do: a beautiful farewell to a future that was never ours to lose.
Withdrawing, he spins me around to wrap my legs around his waist, and then he’s crashing us backward into the glass. “If I told you that word, firebird,” he says fiercely, seeking out my mouth. “Would you stay?”
I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back with a desperation that pushes tenderness into anarchy. At the same time, he lowers me back down onto his cock, and I groan into his mouth as he thrusts in so deeply I’m splitting in two.
Santi doesn’t fuck gently, and tonight is no exception. That violence inside him is tainting his touch.
I’ve changed since Italy, too. I crave that violence now. I don’t want a reprieve, so I’m tugging his hair at the roots, sinking my teeth into his lips to taste that metal, begging for harder, faster, more, as his cock pistons in and out of me until sweat is dripping down both our shoulder blades.
He’s taking me so hard, the whole window frame is shaking, but all I can concentrate on is the surge of pleasure building up inside me.
“Jesus…fuck,” he curses, as he shifts his hips, slamming the back of my head against the glass.
“God, don’t stop!” I’m reaching the tipping point, and I can feel his body straining to compete.
“I love how you come around my cock, Thalia Carrera,” he snarls into my hair. “Your cunt worships me like I’m a fucking god.”
My back arches, and my nails drag red across his skin. For a second, there’s only light and pleasure, as molten heat detonates in my core. Somewhere in the distance, I hear him roaring out my name, and then he’s coating the insides of my pussy—coming so hard, and for so long, I can feel it spilling out of me and dripping down our thighs.
Time stops.
Dimensions shift.
When I open my eyes, he’s carrying me across the room and laying me down across his desk. Spreading my legs wide, we watch as more of his cum drips out of my pussy and onto the lacquered surface.
“What a fucking waste,” he murmurs, gathering it up with a finger and pushing it back inside. “Every part of me belongs to you. The same as every part of you belongs to me.” Wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, he pulls my head up to meet his mouth. “Love is a careless bastard who takes without permission, but he’s our bastard, Thalia,” he says huskily, sealing his words with a brief and brutal kiss. “You ripped my heart out ten years ago, and you never gave it back.”