His Undying Love
RONNY’S POV
The night was winding down, laughter echoing faintly from the hall as the last of our friends hugged their goodbyes. My head was still spinning, not from the champagne—I’d barely touched it—but from something sharper, deeper.
Her.
Liliana.
When the door finally clicked shut behind Ariana and Hardin, silence settled over the mansion like a soft blanket. I exhaled, my shoulders relaxing. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been all night, waiting for the moment to just be alone with her.
I turned to her.
She looked back at me, eyes glimmering, a playful tilt to her smile. My chest squeezed. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I reached for her, pulling her against me. My lips found hers in a kiss that was both gratitude and desperation, heat and promise. She melted into me, her hands braced on my chest, her body pressing into mine.
When I pulled back, our foreheads touched, our breaths tangled in the space between us. My voice came out rough, thick with things I’d never said before.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
Her brows pinched slightly. “For what?”
“For this.” My eyes swept the room, then returned to her. “For celebrating me… for making me feel like I belonged tonight. For dragging me back when I tried to run. For… loving me.”
Her lips parted, her eyes shining with something that threatened to unravel me completely. Then, slowly, she rose on her toes, her mouth brushing mine in the gentlest kiss.
When she pulled back, her whisper was a secret against my lips.
“I have something else for you.”
My brow arched. “Something else?”
She smirked, mischief flickering in her eyes.
I stepped closer, voice low. “What is it?”
Her hand pressed against my chest, stopping me. “Easy there, big boy. You’ll only come upstairs when you get my signal.”
That smile—that teasing smile—nearly did me in.
I tried to follow her, but she slipped from my grasp, walking slowly toward the stairs. My eyes followed the sway of her hips, the curve of her ass, the deliberate roll of her body as she climbed each step. She knew I was watching. Hell, she wanted me to.
By the time she disappeared upstairs, I was biting my lip so hard I almost drew blood.
I paced the living room, restless. What the hell kind of signal was I waiting for? My palms itched, my chest tight with anticipation. My brain spun with possibilities, each one filthier than the last.
Then my phone beeped.
I yanked it out of my pocket.
One message. From her.
My heart stuttered as I opened it.
A photo.
Liliana.
She was standing in front of a mirror, her hair loose around her shoulders, her body wrapped in a pink silk robe so short it barely covered her thighs. Her smile was wicked, her eyes daring me to come and claim her.
And beneath the picture, a message:
‘It’s time to unwrap your present.’
I cursed under my breath, a grin breaking across my face.
Fuck waiting.
I ran upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, my pulse thundering in my ears. When I reached the door, I didn’t knock. I shoved it open.
And there she was.
Exactly as in the picture—pink silk robe, legs bare, lips curved in a slow, dangerous smile.
“You came up pretty fast,” she teased, her voice husky.
I wasn’t joking. Not when she looked this delicious.
I stalked toward her, my eyes locked on hers. My hand caught the tie of her robe, tugging it loose. The silk fell open, revealing the most scandalous lingerie I’d ever seen. Black lace, sheer in all the right places, hugging her curves like it had been sewn onto her skin.
“Fuck,” I breathed, my throat dry. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Her smile widened, her head tilting. “You like it?”
My laugh was low, dark. “Like it? Baby, I’m obsessed.”
Before she could answer, I pulled her into me, my mouth crashing down on hers. The kiss was hot, wild, all teeth and tongue, our breaths mingling in a frenzy. She moaned against me, the sound shooting straight through my spine.
I pushed her back onto the bed, my hands roaming, greedy. I didn’t want to waste a second. My mouth trailed down her neck, her collarbone, until I found her breasts. I sucked at her nipples through the lace, hard enough to make her arch into me, her moans spilling out like music.
Her legs wrapped around my waist, holding me to her, but I pulled back suddenly.
She blinked, confused, as I stood.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, breathless.
“Getting undressed,” I said, peeling my shirt off and tossing it aside.
Her eyes devoured me, every muscle, every inch of skin. I smirked, undoing my belt slowly, deliberately.
“Like what you see?” I asked, my voice dark and teasing.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she nodded, eyes heavy with lust.
I shoved my pants down, kicked them off, and then I was naked, standing before her. The hunger in her gaze nearly undid me.
I climbed back onto the bed, kissing her again, harder this time, pouring everything I felt into it. My hands tugged at the robe, sliding it off completely, leaving her in only that sinful lingerie.
And then—fuck—I saw it.
A cut through the lace. Right where I needed it.
My control snapped.
I slammed into her, burying myself deep with one hard thrust. Her cry was sharp, her nails digging into my shoulders, but her body welcomed me, hot and wet and perfect.
I set a punishing rhythm, fucking her with the lingerie still on, the lace dragging against her skin with every movement. She clung to me, her moans filling the room, her body arching and writhing beneath mine.
“Ronny,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “Oh God—”
“Mine,” I growled, slamming into her harder. “All mine.”
I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. I wanted to consume her, to brand her with every thrust, to make her feel just how much I needed her.
Her lips parted, her cries louder, her body trembling around me. The sound, the sight, the feel of her—it drove me insane.
And then it hit me. The words I’d been choking on all night, the words I’d never thought I’d be able to say.
I couldn’t hold them back.
“I love you,” I groaned, my thrusts faltering. “I love you so fucking much.”
She froze beneath me, her eyes wide, her breath caught.
“What?” she whispered, disbelief etched across her face.
My chest heaved. My forehead pressed to hers. “I love you,” I said again, raw and desperate.
Her lips trembled. “Say it again.”
“I love you,” I rasped.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I fucking love you, Liliana.”
Her eyes filled with tears, her hands cupping my face as her lips trembled into a smile. “I love you too. So much.”
Something inside me shattered and rebuilt all at once. My chest burned, my heart wild, my soul screaming with it.
And before I knew it, I was moving again.
Slamming into her, harder, faster, deeper, chasing that high, that truth, that love.
Her cries rose with mine, our bodies colliding, our hearts racing, everything blurring into heat and need and love.
And I knew—this wasn’t just sex.
This was everything.
This was us.
This was forever.
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