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Katherine Harrington: The challenge in my voice hung in the air like smoke, thick and intoxicating. Luciano’s eyes—those dark, stormy depths—flared with a hunger so primal it sent a shiver racing down my spine. For one breathless second, he simply stared at me, his chest rising and falling with barely leashed control. Then, without a word, he moved. His large hand shot out, fingers threading roughly through my hair at the nape of my neck, yanking my head back just enough to expose my throat. His mouth crashed down on mine again, devouring, claiming, far more aggressive than my own bold kiss. His tongue invaded, stroking deep, tasting every inch of me as if he’d been starving for this exact moment. I moaned into him, the sound vibrating between our fused lips, my body arching instinctively against the hard wall of his chest. “Greedy little mate,” he growled against my mouth, the words rough and gravelly. “You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed.” Before I could retort, he bent low, hooked one powerful arm behind my knees and the other around my back, and lifted me clean off the floor as if I weighed nothing. I gasped, my arms automatically wrapping around his neck, legs dangling for a split second before I hooked them around his waist. His hands gripped my ass possessively, squeezing the soft flesh through the thin fabric of my dress, pressing me firmly against the rigid bulge straining in his trousers. I could feel the heat of him, the thick, heavy length throbbing against my core even through layers of clothing. It made my p***y clench with sudden, aching need. He started walking—long, purposeful strides down the corridor—carrying me like a prize he’d just won. Every step ground his c**k against my c**t through our clothes, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me. I whimpered, burying my face in his neck, inhaling the rich, masculine scent of him—sandalwood, musk, and something darker, like aged wine and raw power. My lips found his pulse point and I sucked lightly, then bit down just hard enough to make him hiss. “f**k, Katherine,” he muttered, his grip tightening almost painfully on my ass. “Keep that up and I’ll take you right here against the wall.” The threat only made me wetter. I rocked my hips deliberately against him, grinding down on that impressive hardness. “Maybe I want you to.” He let out a dark laugh that rumbled through his chest and into mine. “Patience, little mate. You wanted to be carried to my room and punished. You’re getting exactly that.” We reached a set of heavy double doors at the end of the corridor. He didn’t even slow down—simply shifted me higher in his arms, freed one hand long enough to shove the doors open with a powerful shoulder, then kicked them shut behind us with a resounding thud that echoed through the vast chamber. His bedroom—our bedroom now, I realized with a thrill—was enormous and opulent, but I barely registered the details. My focus was entirely on him: the way his muscles flexed under my hands as he carried me deeper inside, the heat radiating from his body, the low, possessive growls vibrating in his throat every time I nipped at his skin. He crossed to the massive four-poster bed draped in deep crimson silk and velvet, but instead of laying me down gently, he tossed me onto it. I bounced once, a surprised laugh escaping me as I sprawled on my back, hair fanned out wildly. Before I could push myself up, he was on me—crawling over my body like a predator, knees bracketing my hips, hands planting on either side of my head. His mouth claimed mine again in a searing kiss that left me dizzy. This time there was no restraint. His tongue f****d my mouth in slow, filthy strokes, mimicking what I desperately wanted him to do lower down. One of his hands slid down my side, bunching the fabric of my dress up my thighs until cool air kissed my skin. His fingers traced the edge of my lace panties, teasing, before he hooked them and ripped the delicate material clean off with one sharp tug. I gasped at the sudden exposure, my p***y now bare and glistening with arousal. The cool air of the room made me shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze as he pulled back to look down at me. “Beautiful,” he murmured, voice thick with lust. His fingers parted my slick folds, stroking lightly from my entrance up to my swollen c**t. I cried out, hips bucking up into his touch. “So f*****g wet already. Is this all for me, Katherine? Have you been aching for your mate’s c**k this entire time?” “Yes,” I moaned shamelessly, spreading my legs wider for him. “God, yes. I’ve wanted you inside me for so long.” He chuckled darkly, circling my c**t with the pad of his thumb in slow, torturous circles. “Then you should have said something sooner. Because now… I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.” Two thick fingers pushed inside me without warning—deep, stretching me open. I arched off the bed with a sharp cry, the sudden fullness both shocking and exquisite. He curled them expertly, stroking that sensitive spot inside me while his thumb continued its relentless assault on my c**t. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room as he pumped his fingers in and out, faster and harder, his eyes never leaving my face—watching every gasp, every flutter of my lashes, every bitten lip. I reached for him, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel skin. He helped me, shrugging it off impatiently, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs, the dark trail of hair disappearing into his trousers. My hands roamed greedily, nails scraping lightly over his n*****s, then lower, tracing the deep V of his hips. He added a third finger, scissoring them to stretch me further, preparing me for what was coming. The pressure built rapidly, coiling tight in my belly. My thighs trembled, my breath coming in short, desperate pants. “Luciano— I’m— oh f**k, I’m going to—” “Come,” he commanded, voice low and authoritative. “Come on my fingers like the greedy little mate you are.” The orgasm crashed over me like a wave, sudden and violent. I screamed his name, my inner walls clamping down hard around his fingers, gushing slick heat as pleasure ripped through every nerve ending. He didn’t stop—kept stroking me through it, drawing it out until I was shaking, oversensitive, whimpering. Only then did he withdraw his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a low, satisfied groan. The sight made my p***y clench again, empty and needy. “My turn,” I whispered, voice hoarse. I pushed at his shoulders until he rolled onto his back, letting me straddle him. My hands worked frantically at his belt and zipper, freeing his c**k. It sprang out—thick, long, veined, the head already glistening with precum. My mouth watered at the sight. He was bigger than I’d imagined, heavy and hot in my palm as I wrapped my fingers around him, stroking slowly from base to tip. Luciano hissed, hips jerking up. “Careful, Katherine. I’ve been holding back for too long.” “Good,” I purred, leaning down to drag my tongue along the underside of his shaft, tasting the salty musk of him. I swirled around the head, licking up the bead of precum, then took him into my mouth—slowly at first, relaxing my throat to take as much as I could. He groaned deeply, one hand tangling in my hair, not forcing but guiding. I sucked him with enthusiasm, hollowing my cheeks, bobbing my head while my hand stroked what I couldn’t fit. The sounds he made—raw, guttural—spurred me on. Saliva dripped down his shaft, making everything slick and messy. I hummed around him, the vibration making his thighs tense. “Enough,” he growled suddenly, pulling me off with a wet pop. “I need to be inside you. Now.” He flipped us again, pinning me beneath him. My dress was shoved up around my waist; he tore the bodice open with impatient hands, buttons scattering, exposing my breasts. His mouth latched onto one n****e, sucking hard while his hand kneaded the other. I cried out, back arching, fingers digging into his shoulders. Positioning himself between my spread thighs, he rubbed the thick head of his c**k through my soaked folds, coating himself in my arousal, teasing my c**t with every pass. I whimpered, trying to tilt my hips to take him inside, but he held me still. “Look at me,” he ordered. Our eyes locked. Slowly, inexorably, he pushed forward. The stretch was intense—burning, delicious. Inch by thick inch he sank into me, filling me completely until his hips were flush against mine and I felt every throbbing vein, every pulse of his c**k deep inside my p***y. We both groaned at the sensation—tight, hot, perfect. “f**k… you’re so tight,” he rasped, forehead pressed to mine. “So perfect for me.” He stayed still for a long moment, letting me adjust, his breath hot against my lips. Then he began to move—slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his c**k along every sensitive nerve inside me. Pleasure bloomed with every thrust, building steadily. My hands roamed his back, nails digging in as he picked up pace. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room, accompanied by our mingled moans and gasps. He f****d me harder, deeper, angling his hips to hit that spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyelids. “Yes—right there—Luciano, harder,” I begged, wrapping my legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him deeper. He obliged, pounding into me with powerful strokes that rocked the heavy bed. Sweat slicked our bodies, making skin slide deliciously against skin. His mouth found mine again in a messy, desperate kiss—teeth clashing, tongues tangling. I felt another orgasm building, faster this time, coiling tighter. “I’m close—don’t stop—” “Come for me again,” he growled, reaching between us to rub my c**t in firm circles. “Let me feel you milk my cock.”