Every centimeter of his pulsing cock was now enveloped within her hot, slick core. They were of one flesh. He owned her sex. Her pussy gripped him like a vice. Cristiano's large, solid form hovered over Rosa, entrapping her beneath him. She laid there breathless and trembling with need. Inhaling a sharp gasp, Rosa surrendered to Cristiano.

His avowal captivated her.

Revenge is not enough.

Like two damned flames trapped in hell, they had, somehow, found one another amid their sins and shadows. To burn together. Darker. Fiercer.

I am going after my kingdom and crown.

He was her sin. She was his shadow. They belonged to each other. Only each other. In mind. In body. In soul.

I want everything that I am owed from the fuckers who stole it from me.

With every push and every pull, his muscles thrummed with more tension. More anguish. More sorrow.

"Take me, take me," he begged her in a desperate mix of English and Italian, "prendimi tutta, Rosa... io mi do a te..."

Cristiano appeared to be using her body to forget. To release his demons at long last. He was pouring the darkness of his past into her, and Rosa welcomed his pain and his rage even while the weight of it threatened to pull her under.

"I am yours, mon beau," she offered without hesitation. "Give it to me, I want it all from you, only you, always you..."

Such intimacy had never come easily for Rosa. Part of her always put up some kind of resistance even when she was enjoying sex.

Yet, in this most heartbreaking and turbulent moment, Rosa wanted to give Cristiano everything. There was nothing else she could've done. She allowed herself to be vulnerable. For the first time ever, she chose to let go. Pleasure swept Rosa away as Cristiano proceeded to pound her toward the sweetest dissolution. His massive cock stretched her beyond measure. He rammed inside her over and over again. Need, want, and lust converged within like a stormy tide—rising, intensifying, threatening to spill over all at once—until she felt deliciously raw and used and ready for the most explosive climax. Ever. Indeed, the intensity of this fucking was unlike anything she had ever experienced with anyone.

Each snap of Rosa's hips seemed to fuel Cristiano's passion. Each breathy moan that escaped her lips granted him renewed lifeforce. He fucked her like a beast. A savage, depraved beast who was being unleashed on his one true mate for the first time. Her eyes rolled back more than once from the relentless force of his hard, pounding thrusts. He was making her wet. So fucking wet. The euphoric friction between their bodies nearly drove her mad with ecstasy.

Right then, Rosa sensed that it wasn't Cristiano Massera who was fucking her.

She was being claimed by a vengeful prince with no crown.

She was being dominated by a De León on a mission to reclaim his kingdom.

Rosa's eyes squeezed shut.

The truth had come out.

It was too much, too much, too much.

Her heart nearly burst from such realizations.

Yet, she craved more, more, more.

More of him.

Cristiano's hand came up to palm her breasts, kneading her generous mounds. Pulling, tugging, and tweaking her nipples. He was rough. Then, he was gentle. He set her senses on fire. His touch alternated between a heady mix of teasing and taunting. Pain kissed her pleasure. Arching her back, she started rubbing her aching tits against his chest, needing to feel his hot, bare skin against hers. In time, the thundering beats of her chaotic heart were no longer hers to tame. She was his. Completely.

Her wantonness enflamed him. A frenzied gleam overtook Cristiano's devil-black eyes. Releasing a hoarse groan, Cristiano moved closer still to capture Rosa's lips between his mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer to deepen their kiss. The pistoning of his manhood slowed between her thighs. As though he wished to prolong their pleasure. To delay the inevitable.

Moving in time to a slower, sweeter rhythm, he whispered against her lips, "Ho paura di cadere. Perché so che non ci sarà mai nessun altro. Ma tu."

Panting softly, Rosa chided, "In English, s'il vous plait, you Italian bastard."

Cristiano gave a low chuckle as though he knew something that she didn't know.

"What?" she demanded.

He hesitated before translating, "You are perfect. Everything about you is perfect."

She sassed back, "Tell me something I do not know."

His head dipped down to nip her ear. "Then... I will tell you what I want from you."

Rosa sighed in bliss. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you on your fucking knees, Rosa," Cristiano commanded as he withdrew his shaft from her sheath.

On her knees?

In Rosa's lust-ridden daze, she felt more than willing to oblige. She managed to flip her body around, landing on all fours with her palms and knees to the mattress.

Giving her ass a naughty, little shimmy, she glanced over her shoulder and smirked at him. "Like this, mon beau?"

"Not quite," he muttered in distracted tones.

"Non?"

Without another word, he caught her arms and pinned them behind her back. Rosa fell forward, planting the side of her cheek onto the sheets.

She cried out in surprise, "Ouf!"

Cristiano's large palms found Rosa's hips, expertly maneuvering her pussy toward his cock. "I have dreamed of taking you like this since we met..."

"Have you, now?" whimpered Rosa.

He shoved his way back inside of her. "Completely at my mercy..."

She moaned in appreciation as he filled her to the brim.

"Until—"

To her shock, he didn't start thrusting right away. Instead, his hand crept around her waist to locate her clit. He circled the small pearl with his thumb, plucked it, pinched it, pleasured it, all the while keeping his shaft steady and still within her sex.

Cristiano growled, "You come so fucking hard that no one else will ever be able to satisfy you. You were made for me, Rosa, as much as I was made for you..."

The wickedness of his words singed her senses. She wanted him to possess her. All of her. She wanted to possess him, too. Her core dripped with need. It throbbed with want. Rosa was beginning to feel lightheaded. His cock and fingers were making her see stars. Her hips started grinding against him on their own, greedy for more of his dick. Groaning, Cristiano soon began to move, too, mirroring her enthusiasm stroke for stroke. The rough, wet, slapping sounds of their lovemaking overwhelmed the room.

From behind, Cristiano left a trail of impassioned kisses along Rosa's back. He nipped at her skin. Nuzzled the crook of her neck. His fingers played between her legs while he continued to fuck her toward oblivion.

Seconds later, she came and came and came as her walls contracted around his steely shaft. Amid her orgasm, his fingers kept toying with her swollen, sensitive clit. Circling, circling, circling. His cock never ceased its pummeling of her pussy. The bastard's stamina was truly godlike. Her delirium stretched onward. Pushing her over the edge. Shattering what little was left of her self-control.

Rosa cursed in French and cried out his name as another fiercer wave of pleasure soon eclipsed her first climax, "Oh, mon putain de Dieu! Cristiano, Cristiano, Cristiano..."

Oh, my fucking God!

Her surrender seemed to trigger his release. With deep, husky cry, Cristiano gripped her thighs and rammed into her one last time. She felt every pulse of his shaft as he flooded her sex with his seed.

By the time he was done, Rosa could no longer stay upright. She felt boneless. Weightless. She collapsed onto the bed. Cristiano soon followed suit and tucked her into his arms. Entwined, they basked in the glory of their exhaustion. In the beautiful aftermath of le petit morte.

The little death.

She felt drained in the best way possible. In mind. In body. In soul. An overwhelming urge to give in to slumber came over Rosa.

But she couldn't sleep.

She couldn't rest.

Not yet.

Not after she just opened up to him about Nijah.

Not after she just let a fucking De León rail her to the moon and back.

There was too much they had yet to unpack in regard to their newly forged bond.

Rosa turned to face him. "Cristiano?"

"Yes?"

Her gaze drifted toward him. "How far would you go for... revenge?"

Cristiano didn't stutter in his reply, "I would be willing to die for it."

She hummed in approval, "Good."

"Good?"

"Because," Rosa explained softly, "it means you understand how I feel about what Mesrine did to Nijah."

His arms tensed around her. "What are you suggesting?"

She set her jaw. "In the same way you plan to reclaim your mother's kingdom and crown, I want Mesrine's empire. For Nijah. I have decided that I want it all."

"Then you shall have it all," he pledged.

"After we skewer Mesrine's balls and display his head on a spike," Rosa fantasized with a dark, dreamy smile, "I will take you to Morocco. To celebrate."

He murmured with interest, "What will we do there?"

Rosa gave this question some serious consideration. 

What did she want to share most from her childhood?

After a thoughtful pause, Rosa offered faintly, "I shall treat you to a dozen of my grandmother's sfenj. They are... life-changing."

His expression softened, "It is a date—"

It was then that a loud, continuous vibration buzzed through the room, interrupting their happy conversation.

"What's that?" Rosa asked.

"My phone," he replied, diving over the edge of the bed to retrieve it. Cristiano glanced at the caller ID and sighed, "It is Marcello. I should probably take this call."

"Be my guest," she murmured.

He gave her a look of longing and regret. Then, in mildly annoyed tones, Cristiano answered his phone, "Pronto."

While Cristiano dove into his conversation with Marcello in rapid-fire Italian, a faint chime dinged in the background. This time, the noise sounded as though it had come from her phone. Frowning, Rosa reached over to fish it out of her purse. Her eyes scanned the screen. She had received a text composed completely in French from an unknown sender.

A name wasn't necessary, though.

Already, Rosa knew exactly who had sent it.

Tu as promis de ne plus me trahir, ma moitié. Tu as menti. Maintenant, tu dois mourir.

You promised not to betray me again, my other half. You lied. Now, you must die.

***

Prendimi tutta, Rosa... Io mi do a te...

Take all of me, Rosa... I give myself to you...

Ho paura di cadere. Perché so che non ci sarà mai nessun altro. Ma tu.

I am afraid of falling. Because I know there will never be anyone else. But you.