“It’s this. My cock splitting you open.” He jabs hard. “This is love to a selfish, ruthless, empty man.” With every descriptor, he slams into me. There’s no more pain, only a rush to the moment of fulfillment. “Love is when you take it so deep you feel like you’re being fucked by the devil. But you take it, and take it, and…” He stops, closes his eyes.

“No…” I push him deeper, but my thrusts are so weak compared to his.

“Why are you letting me do this?”

“Because you should have let me die.”

“No.” He circles with his hips. “Never.”

“Then you are the devil.”

“Now you know.” All pretense falls off of him. In the evil he admits to, he becomes vulnerable and coarse. He’s a predator with his belly exposed, but no less deadly. “Do you feel safe with me now?” He pushes side to side as if trying to find a way to my heart.

“Yes, but—”

He kisses me.

“No buts. We’re going to fix this together. I can’t do it without you. I never could.” He rolls me onto my side and looks down between my legs, pulling me open with flat hands. “You and me. We can make it right.”

He pulls out and licks me from clit to anus. I cry out. It’s so good, so soft, and yet so violently needy.

“I’m going to fuck every hole you have.” He licks my ass again, wetting it, circling with his insistent tongue, prying it open with two impatient fingers. “You taste so good. Hold your ass open, beautiful, so I can get in.”

I’m too desperate for him to disobey.

“Good girl. Beautiful woman.” He pushes his fingers in all the way to the scars, groaning as if entering me this way gives him as much pleasure as it gives me. He uses his other hand to put my leg over his shoulder. “I can take all of you at once.”

Keeping his fingers lodged in my ass, he slides his cock into me. I am full. Pushed past my limits. When I open my mouth to groan, he puts his fingers inside, grabbing my jaw with the heel of his hand.

Now I’m full with him. He’s present everyplace he can be. I feel his body inside mine so profoundly that the orgasm is shared between us.

“Sergio had a car waiting. I took it,” Dario says, running the sponge from my foot to the top of my thigh and back. The bath is soapy and warm.

“You didn’t kill Timothy, did you?”

“No. He knows taking a Colonia car on your wedding day is my right.”

“More of a habit.”

He smiles. “Oria dressed your arm in the back seat. I was glad I didn’t kill her for risking you like that.”

“Where is she?”