Violent Triumphs (White Monarch 3)

“As much as I enjoy making you squirm,” he said, picking up a steak knife, “the underwear has to go.”

I inhaled sharply. “What are you doing?”

With the serrated edge, he sliced through the thin strip of fabric. “Unwrapping your candy pussy like I promised so I can lick and suck until I find what I want—your sweet core.”

His black eyes bored into mine, beckoning me to the dark side. This was the submission he’d promised I’d enjoy, if only I’d listen to my body and give in. Warmth seeped over me, pulling me under.

Cristiano grew serious. “I understand why your guard is still up, but starting now, it comes down. I want you to think long and hard about the past several weeks, Natalia. To wake up by my side and know without a doubt that I mean it when I say I want you and only you here as my wife. That I’ve promised to care for you. That I’m trying to protect you and others from things no person should ever witness, much less experience. And in case none of that is a good enough reason for you to accept me once and for all as your husband, then tomorrow morning, you will remember how I ate your pussy so good, you can’t imagine a future without sitting on my face whenever you feel like it.”

He sank his mouth onto me like I was a juicy steak, obliterating any shock I might’ve felt over his declarations. Having only ever experienced Diego’s gentle tonguing, I wasn’t ready for Cristiano’s onslaught, the way he gripped my hips and pulled me onto his face so hard I wondered how he could breathe.

Nothing could prepare me for his animal growl vibrating through me.

Or how he thrust his tongue inside me and shredded the last of my willpower to resist him.

My feet jumped to his shoulders. He sucked on my clit. A whimper escaped my open mouth. Pleasure so severe it bordered on painful ripped through me, but it was due to more than a skilled combination of tongue and teeth. It was his voraciousness to devour me that made my spine arch to the point of snapping and my moans echo through the hall.

Consumed, I closed my thighs around his ears, but he pried them right back apart, holding them open. “Don’t close your legs again,” he said, licking his lips. “I need my hands.”

He spread me wider. With the unexpectedness of a long finger inside me, I sucked in a breath. He added another, easing both in as if testing me. He withdrew them, stuck them in his mouth, and grinned wolfishly. “Wanna taste?”

“No,” I nearly choked out, horrified at the suggestion.

“More for me.”

The faster his fingers slipped in and out, the wetter I got. I hadn’t known I could even drip this way. His tongue sucked and explored my clit like it was his new favorite toy, lavishing attention on it until my insides flurried and contracted around his fingers.

“I understand why your guard is still up, but starting now, it comes down.”

With my surrender, bliss radiated from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes, scorching anything in its path.

He removed his fingers, took a bruising grip on my hips, and burrowed his face between my legs. His tongue invaded like he was mining for gold. His voraciousness brought on my climax, simultaneously spurring it on and easing the raw, agonizing pleasure with groans that vibrated along the waves of my orgasm.

By the end, I was pulling his hair as my thighs quaked. He kissed me gently, his tongue tender on my quivering pussy as he helped me back down to Earth.

He uncurled my hands from his hair and stepped away, taking me in. A satisfied rumble from his chest made me feel as if I’d pleased him.

Even in my haze, I wondered how he seemed as content as I was.

I was almost too shy to look him in the eye. He’d transformed from man to beast, and me?

I’d loved it so much, I’d come as hard as humanly possible.

With a mouth like his, I’d be a fool not to chain myself to him.

If there’d been any question about whether I could learn to follow the devil . . .

I had my answer.

* * *

In our bedroom, I unbuttoned Cristiano’s shirt from my body as he watched from the bed, naked from the waist up. He stuck his arm behind his head. “If you take even one step toward the couch, I will carry you back to this bed—and you wouldn’t want to risk me opening my wounds, would you?”

I smirked. Suddenly his condition was a concern of his?

But the truth was, I didn’t want to sleep apart—I hadn’t for a while. I’d chosen the sofa the last week and a half to give him space. Let his body heal. Remove temptation.