Page 108 of Beautiful Villain
To look like that.
To stand there and make my pulse stumble and my thoughts go hazy.
But he did it anyway.
And I stood there, undone, staring at him like he was something I was already losing—even while he was right in front of me.
Gianni’s headwas between my legs, his mouth resting against my pussy.His tongue flicked delicately at my nub, then descended until he coated the length of my pussy.He licked and sucked and thrust his tongue like a man starved, until I crashed and burned against his mouth with a loud, howling orgasm that ripped out of me as though my soul had been devoured.
He moved up my body slowly, spreading himself over me.His mouth glistened with the proof of my orgasm as he entered me.He eased in further, inch by inch, until there was no space left between us.Then he leaned in, forehead resting against mine, both of us breathing hard.
And he started to move.
Slow at first—deep, steady strokes that slid through me with maddening precision, finding that place that made my breath hitch and my toes curl.I locked my legs around his waist, dragging him closer, desperate for more pressure, more heat, more of him filling every inch of space between us.
“Look at me,” he said, rough, urgent.
I did.
Something broke loose in him.He drove into me harder, deeper, and the release crashed over me all at once—hot, overwhelming, ripping a cry from my throat.My back arched, hands clutching at him like I needed to anchor myself to something solid.
He came with a strained sound, hips faltering as he buried himself inside me, holding me tight, like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go.
When it was over, he fell beside me and pulled me into his arms, his breathing uneven, his skin still warm against mine.The room settled into quiet, broken only by the sound of us catching our breath.
He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.
“This is what you do to me,” he whispered.“You wreck all my plans.”
I tucked my face into his neck and let the words sink in, down into all the places that were still trembling.
45
Gianni
7 Months Later
Mikayla was a vision of beautiful chaos.
Barefoot on the couch, hair piled into a messy knot that kept sliding loose, one hand braced against the armrest and the other resting on the beautiful curve of her stomach.She looked like she was about to burst—not just with the baby, but with life.With warmth.With everything she’d been denied for so long.
I paused in the doorway and just watched her for a second.
This.This was the life I never thought I’d have.
I crossed the room and leaned over her, bracing my hands on either side of her as I kissed her slow and deep.She felt like… home.She made a soft sound against my mouth, fingers curling into the front of my shirt like she was anchoring herself to me.
When I pulled back, I pressed my palm to her stomach and felt the faint, stubborn roll of our child inside her.
“Marcello called,” I murmured, brushing my thumb over her skin.“I need to go check on something.”
Her face fell instantly.
“Gianni,” she whined, shifting carefully, one hand going to her lower back.“Can’t someone else go?I’m huge.I’m miserable.And what if my water breaks while you’re gone?”
I smiled, because even her sulking was adorable now.“You’re beautiful, baby.”
She sulked some more.
