Christmas with the Beast (The Fiore Family 1)

“What’s wrong?” I ask, wiping my hands on my napkin.

“Nothing.”

I tilt my head and grunt. “Don’t start lying to me, Isabelle.”

“It’s really nothing. My sister and I video chat with my parents on Christmas morning together and we won’t be together tomorrow.”

I think about the problem for thirty seconds and then say a partial truth, “Okay. Just explain that you were working a party and the snowstorm left you stranded here.”

“I suppose, but they worry about us even though we’re both adults.”

“I’m sure the best parents do. I can assure you my parents worry about both Fabio and me.”

Rita gets up and addresses us. “Thank you for the food. I’m going to head to my room unless you need anything.”

“No, we’re good. Do you have a new book to read?”

“Yes. You’ve figured me out. Luckily it arrived before the storm because you know I hate the whole eBook thing.” She does. It’s cool because she has several bookcases that line her private sitting room.

Isabelle sets the dishes in the sink, and I take her hand. “We’ll worry about it later. You and I have long awaited unfinished business to attend to.”

“We most certainly do, Mr. Fiore. A promise long overdue.” I lead her upstairs, avoiding looking into her eyes because once I do, I’ll slam her to the nearest surface.

The moment I have Isabelle alone in my wing of the mansion, I open our bedroom door and, slam it closed behind us, pinning her to the door. My mouth crushes her in a violent, greedy kiss. Her hands snake into my hair, tugging as she clings to me. I don’t even mind the pain. After all I’m going to be pummeling her body with my thick cock very soon. I need her naked.

Dragging my mouth from hers, I press my forehead to hers and whisper, “I love you so much, Isabelle.”

“I love you too. Please make love to me.” I reach over and pull up her sweater to see the bra I bought for her.

“I knew this would look good on you.”

“Did you buy this for me?”

“Just the panties and bra. I’ve been thinking about you in this for over a year.”

“Really.” Her eyes darken with need that I plan on sating. I lift her up, feeling like an animal and carry her onto the bed.

Like a kid on Christmas, I tear off her wrappings, stripping her bare to me. God, she’s too damn sexy and I don’t deserve her, but I can’t refuse such a gift. I’ve ached for this woman for so long that I’ll never let her go.

My cock throbs as I stare at her pale, naked flesh. She bites on her bottom lip, looking nervous. How the hell can she be nervous? She’s perfect.

“Isabelle,” I whisper, sliding between her legs. Holding firmly to her thighs, I kiss my way up between her creamy skin. I part her wet slit and take my first lick of her heat. Two years to finally taste heaven. Moaning, I continue to swipe my tongue into her wetness.

“Franco,” she cries out, hands clenched in my hair and thighs flexed. She’s so sexy I can barely breathe. Roughly, I drag her body closer to my face and devour her little pussy like a man possessed—more like the beast that I am.

Her body shakes, pulses, and writhes as she moans. “You like when I eat your pussy?”

“Yes. Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping until you come on my face. I’ve waited years to have your hot juices all over me. I’ve jerked off so many fucking times to the sound of your voice as you cream for me. Now do it, baby. Give me what I need before I fill you up with our baby.”

“I’m so close. Eat me up. Fuck,” Isabelle screams. “Oh, oh, oh. I’m coming.” Her cries are music to my ears, and I can’t hold back. I position myself with my thick cock eagerly dripping sticky pre-cum onto her mound. I rub it through her folds, teasing my woman again while trying to hold back as much as I can. Her hands grip my biceps.

“You ready for me?”

“Yes. I need that enormous cock to tear me apart.” She covers her mouth, embarrassed by her words, but I hear her need.

“Fuck,” I grunt, pushing my cock through her entrance and slamming fully inside. Her eyes shut tight as she attempts to overcome my intrusion. I shred her innocence, and I can’t muster the will to feel bad about it. Slowly she opens those gorgeous blues for me. “I’m sorry, babe. I should have been gentler, but my brain failed to process that you saved yourself for me.” She told me and I still beat through her like a battering ram.

“Yes, Franco. I’m only yours,” she says as she splays her hands over my shoulders, giving no fucks about my scars, and starts to move again.