Page 127 of Brutal Revenge

“If that’s true, show me.”

Azra’s eyes lock with mine, clouded with lust. “Huh?”

“Show me.” She hesitates, and the rest of my reply tumbles from my lips. “Because I sure as fuck ain’t touching you until I’ve made sure I didn’t tear you.”

She rolls her eyes, wordlessly announcing that I’m a jerk. I see the true response in her expression. She digs my protectiveness as much as she does my possessiveness.

“I said I’m fine.”

“Then show me,” I repeat, undeterred.

Her nipples tighten in anticipation as she veers her eyes to the bedroom. “Should we go in there?”

“Here’s fine.”

The oils slicking my skin are softening decades-old calluses. They have to be more helpful to her than the endless number of orgasms I plan to give her before I ever enter her again.

“All right.” The head of my cock bobs above the water when she abruptly stands.

Fuck. Me. Her body is even more enticing from this angle.

Banging hips, fantastic tits, and a pussy a Viking could feast on for life and never starve.

“See? Still in one piece.”

“Hmm,” I murmur, not sold. She has a tight, compact pussy that she’s hiding with an unfavorable hip tilt. “I’m not yet convinced. Sit on the edge of the tub and balance your feet on the rim.”

I groan when she immediately follows my command. Can you imagine how cock-thickening it is to have a strong, independent woman submit to you? I’ve never been more turned on.

“Now spread wide for me. Let me see every inch of that gorgeous pussy.”

With her eyes locked on mine, Azra fans out her thighs, exposing her glistening pussy to my ravenous gaze. Her pants increase when I scoot to her half of the tub. Carefully, I part her with my fingers. As expected, her labia hides some raw redness. She isn’t exactly harboring life-threatening injuries, but there’s enough damage to keep my dick in my pants for at least a week—if not forever.

“No,” Azra whines when I move back to my half of the tub.

“There’s no way you ain’t sore.”

“I’m not. I told you I’m not.” When I arch a brow and glare at her, she switches tones. “It’s a little achy. But not enough to force me into a celibacy that will make it hurt just as much every time you touch me. Fuck, Matteo. I’d rather be a nun than wait months between contact.”

“I can’t hurt you,la mia tigrotta.”

“Then don’t,” she bites back, her voice just as loud. “Give me this. Trust me enough to know I’d tell you to stop if it became too much. Let me choose for myself.”

I’m lost on what flashes through her eyes as she finishes her sentence, but I stop trying to decipher it when she slides her hand between her legs. The quickest brush of her fingertips over her clit almost sets her off, and I moan with her.

“Azra…” There’s no heat to my warning.

“If you’re not going to touch me, I guess I’ll have to touch myself.”

As she coats her fingers with the residue of the wetness betweenher legs, she scrapes her teeth across her lower lip, marking them as well as I marked her pussy.

Her shoulder blades meet when she stuffs two fingers inside herself and circles her clit with her thumb.

The visual is so enticing that before I can tell myself to sit back and enjoy the show, I circle my hand around my shaft and give it a long, purposeful tug.

“Are you… Oh god, are you stroking your cock?”

“Keep going,” I instruct when she freezes, as mesmerized by my solo expedition as I am by hers. “Show me how bad you want this.” I flex my cock at the close of my sentence.