His

Mikael’s POV

I hiked my hand up her skirt and Ghalia leaned her head back, moaning.

“Ooohhh, fuck I missed this,” she groaned, patting her legs willingly for me.

My fingers teased the lace of her panties. It was a thrill to touch her again, but it wasn’t because I wanted her back. It was more of the thrill of dark desire to see her defeated by me. A sort of revenge if you will.

Her wiles didn’t move me one bit, and all her writing only increased my disdain for her. Yet every bit of my manhood was hard and rearing to go.

“You’re just as I remember,” I switched to Italian, right as Ghalia began cursing like a sailor at sea while I plunged two of my fingers into her wet, warm heat, thrusting slowly in and out, pulling every bit of pleasure right out of her. It belonged to me, and to no one else.

I added another finger and she gave a long and breathy, husky sigh.

“You’re so much better,” she whispered in our mother tongue. “Than anyone else who’s ever touched me.”

I hummed in disinterest