Shadow Rider (30 page)

It might make him the biggest bastard in the world, but he liked that she was his to teach all the things he liked, the things he needed. He was a jealous son of a bitch, although that trait was brand-new, just emerging since he'd found her, but the thought of another man with his cock inside her made him killing crazy. He could understand why he'd been taught discipline at an early age. One couldn't hunt down some boy who had stolen his woman's virginity from him and kill him, although he acknowledged the urge to do so was there. He didn't ask his name because he didn't fully trust himself to act in a civilized manner. He didn't feel civilized when he was around Francesca. He felt primitive, a savage brute who would keep his woman away from other men by any means available to him.

He loved watching her eyes widen with shock as he pushed through those tight, scorching-hot petals. So tight she was strangling the life out of him, but he was going to die a happy man. It was a form of ecstasy, the pleasure and pain mixing until he wasn't certain where one began and the other left off, but there was no way he'd ever stop. No. Fucking. Way.

Finally, he managed to bottom out, forcing her body to take all of him. He was long and thick and she was so tight
that for a moment he had to fight for control to keep from spilling his seed right there and then. Fucking perfect.

He stared down at her, his cock swelling impossibly more at the sight. She was spread out like a feast, his marks all over her. Bite marks branding her as his, purple circles coming up where he'd suckled her delicate skin, forming a pretty necklace that declared to the world she belonged to a very possessive man.

Watching her eyes, he pulled back slowly, savoring the feeling of her tight muscles dragging over his throbbing cock as he withdrew. Blood pounded through the thick, heavy spike in time to his heartbeat, proclaiming his hungry, urgent need. Her eyes widened. Her mouth formed a perfect little
O
. He loved how she looked, her breasts jutting upward, nipples tight, arms stretched over her head, hands bound together, his marks all over her little curvy, smoking-hot body. His. All. His.

He tried for control. For careful. Mindful of her innocence. Mindful that she was new at this. But heaven help him, she started moaning. Whimpering. Mewling like a little kitten. Her body writhed and bucked and deep inside he felt the tremors, the way her tight muscles milked and gripped. It would have been too much for a saint and he was the devil himself, so there was no way to stop him from driving deep. Francesca let out a small scream that vibrated right through his cock, destroying his self-control completely.

He slammed home. Brutally. Rough as sin. Fire streaked through him. White lightning. She cried out as his fingers dug deep into her hips and yanked her into him as he hammered into her. Over and over. Not letting up. Taking her. Pounding without mercy for either of them.

His hands cupped her ass, that beautiful delectable,
edible
ass he loved to watch as she walked. He'd dreamed of her ass, had multiple fantasies about it. He dug his fingers into her and held her pinned, completely immobile while he lost himself in her. He'd never fucked so hard in his life. She screamed when he bore down hard over her clit. Thankfully
that hadn't been a scream of pain. He wasn't certain he could have slowed down or stopped.

Francesca stared at him with dazed, shocked eyes. Obeying him. Remembering on her own to let him see what he was doing to her. How she was reacting. He was out of control, but thank fuck she gave him her eyes so he could ensure she was enjoying what he was doing to her. Her breasts jolted invitingly with every brutal thrust. Her breath came in ragged, gasping pants, adding to the music of her whimpers, screams and the sound of his name, so breathy he wanted to double his efforts to hear more. He'd never seen anything so fucking hot in his life.

Stefano couldn't pretend he hadn't been with a lot of women before Francesca. He'd felt momentary pleasure—a
lot
of pleasure. The truth was, he had an intense job, and fucking was release to him. It was good and he liked it, but being with Francesca wiped out every other time before her. He knew he would never forget this moment as long as he lived. The way she looked. The way he felt. His cock was in fucking heaven, the pleasure ripping through his body, until every nerve ending he had was a part of the fireball streaking through him.

He used his hands to control her hips, to place her in the best position, tilting her until he heard her gasp as his cock sawed over her clit and hit that sweet spot deep inside her over and over. The pounding beat thundered in his ears, roared through his body as he felt her shudder from the pleasure he created with his cock hitting that perfect spot. He wanted to feel her come apart from the inside.

He watched her face. Her eyes. Her head thrashed and she moaned continuously, her breath hissing out of her. She was close. So close. He wanted it all from her. Her orgasm, so strong she convulsed, her submission, so total she knew she belonged to him. He wanted her to know
he
gave that to her, an all-consuming rush of fucking heaven.

“Keep looking at me,
dolce cuore
—don't look away. Stay with me.”

Her lashes had begun to drift down, her head turning to one side. At his command, she struggled to obey.

“Francesca, come now for me. I want to feel it. Let go for me.” He wasn't asking. He poured steel into his voice as he hammered deep.

He rammed into her over and over, harder than ever, each thrust jolting her body. He was merciless, relentless, pounding his cock right into her G-spot. “Now, baby,” he reiterated. “Let go.”

Francesca's gaze clung to his, and he knew the exact moment she gave herself to him. The submission. The trust. She let go and gave herself into his keeping. She screamed, loud and long, a wail that filled the room as her sweet, scorching-hot sheath clamped down on his cock like a fucking vise, taking him with her. Her body shook, breasts dancing, hips bucking, legs stiffening as she mewed, her inner muscles convulsing over and over, as her climax ripped through her. Jet after jet of hot seed pumped into her, filling her, prolonging and adding to the strength of her orgasm.

He stayed locked to her, feeling her body convulse around his, over and over, the aftershocks nearly as strong as the continuous climax. He had no idea until then that perfection could actually be achieved, but that moment was utter perfection. Looking at her. The dazed look in her eyes. Her flushed body covered with his marks and brands. He fucking loved that. His body joined with hers so that they shared the same skin. Her sheath, so scorching hot surrounding him, still milking his cock while his seed boiled inside of her.

He wished he had recorded it, so he could replay his claiming her over and over. If he could have, he would have ordered his name tattooed across her breasts. He'd have it branded on her ass. He wanted every other man in the world to see her like this, under him, in complete and total submission. He'd been a selfish bastard taking her like that, but he wanted her to know who he was, the kind of man she'd be living with. He'd been half terrified that she wouldn't be
able to take him, but she'd loved every single thing he'd done to her. Yeah. She was exactly what he needed in his bed.

His woman. A woman he never believed he'd ever have. Not. Fucking. Ever. He hadn't believed he would have anything or anyone that was totally his alone. He'd lived his entire life knowing his life wasn't his own and never would be. He'd been born a shadow rider and that meant he had responsibilities not only to his family, but to others. He couldn't walk away from those responsibilities, not ever.

“You're so fucking beautiful, Francesca,” he said. “I'm not nearly finished with you. I'm going to take you in so many ways tonight you'll be so sore you won't be able to move tomorrow.” He wanted to come all over her beautiful breasts and rub his seed into her skin. Into her pores. Without unlocking himself from her body, he reached up and carefully unhooked his tie and gently pulled her arms down. The movement caused another powerful aftershock so that her sheath clamped down again, massaging life back into his cock.

She let out a small whimper and he immediately ran one hand down her body, from her throat to her belly in a soothing caress. “Relax,
amore
, let me get this.” He unwrapped her wrists and kneaded her arms, making certain the blood flow hadn't been interrupted.

“Do you do that a lot?” The question was hesitant. Her voice trembled.

His gaze jumped to hers, trying to assess exactly what she meant. Exactly what was bothering her. “Do what?”

She gestured with her chin toward his tie. “That.”

“I would have used my belt, but the tie was softer.”

She took a breath, her face flushing. “Do you tie up all your women, Stefano?”

“I've never tied up another woman. Never. Why would I bother? They didn't belong to me,
bambina
. You belong to me. Only you.”

Relief crept into her eyes. It wasn't that he'd tied her hands that bothered her, only the thought that he might have done
the same to another woman. He fucking loved that. Reluctantly he allowed his cock to slip out of her. For one brief moment he'd been sated. That was already gone. Just seeing her body spread out before him like a feast was enough to get him started again. Catching her ankles, he slowly lowered her legs from his shoulders to the sideboard and then he reached for her.

He swept her into his arms, cradling her close to his body. “Put your arms around my neck.”

“My clothes . . .” She looked around her a little helplessly.

“Sorry,
bella
.” He couldn't quite help the laughter in his voice. “I destroyed them.” He strode through the large apartment to the master bedroom.

Her fingers clutched his shoulder. “My room is the other way.”

“This is your room. You belong with me.” There was no room for argument. She was sleeping in his bed and would for the rest of her life. “And you'll sleep naked or in some hot little number that I'll rip off you in three seconds flat. I want to feel your soft skin next to me, and know that all I have to do is roll over and push my cock deep inside you anytime I feel like it.”

He took her right through his bedroom to the master bath and set her feet on the tiles. With one arm locking her to him, he ran warm water over a washcloth and then crouched in front of her. “Widen for me, Francesca.”

She blushed. It was cute as hell, especially given the way he'd fucked her. He tapped her inner thigh when she didn't obey him. She dropped a hand to his shoulder to steady herself but obediently spread her legs for him.

“I'd prefer to do that myself.”

She had a little snippy bite to her voice that made him smile. “You're mine,
bambina
—that makes this my privilege.” He carefully washed her thighs and then pressed the cloth against her slick heat. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “You know you didn't. It was . . . amazing.”

When he finished he leaned into her and pressed a kiss in the dark curls. “Go lie on the bed, Francesca. On your stomach.”

Her small white teeth sank into her lower lip. “Stefano . . .” She broke off when he gave her a hard look.

“I'm not fucking around tonight,
dolce cuore
. I waited too long for you. Go lie on the bed.”

She took a breath as he stood, deliberately towering over her, crowding her space. “Do you have any idea how scary you can be?”

He tipped her face up to his and leaned down to brush a kiss across her mouth. “Sadly, Francesca, you'll get over that all too soon.” He turned her around, gave her a swat on her bare ass, at the same time giving her a small push toward the bedroom.

Francesca yelped and threw him a smoldering look over her shoulder, one hand rubbing at his handprint on her bottom as she made her way back into the bedroom. He threw back his head and laughed. She was
everything
. To the outside world, he had it all. But his brothers, his sister . . . He shook his head, his smile fading. His cousins in New York, the ones in San Francisco and those overseas, shadow riders, all of them had no life and no hope of one. Not one that belonged to them. Until Francesca.

Word had spread fast through the family that Stefano had found a woman and that not only was she capable of producing shadow riders, but he had fallen for her. They actually had real chemistry. It wouldn't be a marriage of convenience, but a true love match if he could manage to make her fall for him. If he could keep her. For him, Stefano knew there wasn't an
if
. He
would
keep her because now, for him, there wasn't a choice. He couldn't give her up. He wouldn't have done so before he fucked her, but now, after having his cock inside of her, after feeling her tight, scorching body surrounding his, he'd move heaven and earth to make her happy. To keep her.

She represented hope for his cousins, for his brothers and
sister. If Stefano could find Francesca, they had a chance. He glanced through the open doorway and his heart nearly stopped. His woman had done as he'd asked. She lay in the middle of the bed, facedown, nothing covering her bare body, just stretched out on top of the sheets, her face buried in the crook of her arm.

His heart swelled with pride. She was shy with him. A little scared. She had courage and had shown him more than once that she could stand up to him, but she'd
chosen
to obey his orders. She'd given him her trust again. He stood there a long time, one hip against the doorjamb, his gaze devouring her while emotions he'd never felt before threatened to overwhelm him.

He took his time cleaning his cock and thighs before going to her. She didn't move when he put a knee to the bed and then straddled her thighs. “You asleep, Francesca?”

“Not yet. Just drifting.”