Page 242 of Coal Hearts

I expected her to tell me no.

To scream or beg as I fisted my erection and guided it to where it needed to go.

But she didn’t.

Her mouth merely fell wide as I breached her.

I didn’t look away as I sank deep, deep inside her.

Her head tipped forward almost crashing against the base of my throat as I shifted her higher and forced her body to accept all of me. Her wetness helped me glide. Her residual pleasure-pulses threatened to make me come.

And when I slotted all the way in, we both groaned.

I rocked my hips, feeding her my throbbing length.

Her eyes snapped closed as her body clenched around me.

Right there was our first moment.

This was sex.

Not those other pathetic moments where I’d been too shit terrified to enjoy being inside her. Terrified at losing control.

Those had been pretend. Make-believe. Survival.

This...

This was real.

This was mine.

She was mine.

I thrust.

All.

...and thrust.

Fucking.

...and thrust.

Mine.

Victor’s grunt echoed behind me as he reached his own climax, no doubt spilling down Peter’s throat. I didn’t look over my shoulder. No one else existed apart from this jewel that’d bled for me, this gorgeous temptress I’d conquered and enslaved.

I withdrew and drove back in, shuddering as her body welcomed with such tight condemnation. All the barriers and chains I’d wrapped myself in detonated. Ily might have unlocked my cage with her ill-advised kick, but sinking inside her was the final strike to the bomb that’d been waiting to explode ever since I was born.

My insides shattered.

My heart imploded.

Shrapnel fell around my feet, confetti made of morals and scruples and ridiculous, useless integrity.

I’d been born alone; I would die alone.

There was no need to try to be a man deserving of a wife and life.