“Yes,” she breathes, trembling, but obedient.
The trust in her voice, fragile but real, tears at something inside me even as lust surges higher. I slick my fingers, slide one slow and deliberate against her tight little asshole, all while keeping myself buried deep inside her.
She sobs, twisting, but I hold her steady, kissing the back of her shoulder.
“Good girl,” I murmur, softer this time, but no less possessive. “You’ll take it for me. You’ll give me everything.”
I press a kiss between her shoulder blades, breathing hard, trying to leash the wildness that wants to tear through me. Despite the desperate need clawing at my insides to own her fully, I force myself to slow, to be careful.
My fingers work methodically, slick with lube, circling, easing her open bit by bit. She whimpers, clutching at the sheets, every sound ricocheting straight through me.
“Breathe for me,” I murmur, my voice thick with restraint. “I’ve got you.”
Her body yields gradually, and when I finally push into her ass, I grit my teeth against the sheer rush of it. She’s tight, hot, gripping me in a way that nearly undoes me right there.I still, fighting for control, giving her the time she needs to adjust. My palms stroke up her sides, grounding her.
She shifts back against me with a desperate little sound. “Petyr…”
That’s all it takes. I start to move, slow at first, deliberate. Each thrust pushes me deeper, her body molding around me until she cries into the pillow, trembling under the pressure. I pick up the pace, hips snapping harder, faster,more.
Her moans rise and rise. I lean forward, one hand sliding between her thighs to find her clit.
The reaction is instant. Her back bends, a strangled cry tearing from her throat as I work her with ruthless precision.
“Cum for me,” I growl, the command ragged with my own unraveling. “Now. I want to feel you.”
She shatters. The sensation drags me over the edge with her, and I drive deep one last time as everything inside me breaks loose. The world narrows to the pulse of her, the grip of her body, the sound of her crying out beneath me.
I collapse forward, chest pressed to her back, both of us shaking, sweat-slicked and raw. My hand stays on her hip, unwilling to let go even as the aftershocks leave me gasping for breath.
Inside her, around her, I feel whole in a way I can’t begin to put into words.
And I know, with brutal certainty, that I’ll never want to stop claiming her like this.
43
SIMA
On the day of my lunch date with Jemma, I’m a mess of nerves.
My jitters start before I’ve even walked out the door. The penthouse feels like a safe haven, one I’m not sure I’m ready to leave on my own. Though I won’t be on my own—Luka will be there, too.
But Petyr won’t be.
I try to silence that voice at the back of my head. I’m glad to finally be seeing Jemma. Just the thought of it makes my chest swell with relief. A piece of my old life, a piece ofme,waiting at our favorite café table like none of this ever happened.
But my stomach still feels like a knot pulled too tight. Part of it is excitement, but the rest… I don’t want to name it yet.
I don’t feel ready. Petyr’s absence nags at me at the most random moments, making me ache for him even when there’s no reason to want him there.
Taking a nap? Want Petyr.
Having a cup of tea? Want Petyr.
Watching History Channel After Dark in a hopeless bid to keep awake through Petyr’s ridiculous office hours?I. Want. Petyr.
I’ve never been a clingy person, but God, if I’m not turning into the teenager I never got to be.
I’m just tired.That’s what I keep telling myself as I slip into the car. Baby-making is hard work. That’s why my body feels so sluggish, like my bones are made of sandbags. I just haven’t been getting enough sleep.
