“Alistair, you’re driving me insane,” I panted, the pleasure sharp and relentless. His thrusts matched my rhythm, deeper, harder, until sparks shot through me. My body seized, shuddering as the climax ripped down my spine and tore me apart.
“Come in me,” I cried, his name spilling from my lips again and again until I couldn’t breathe.
“I’m coming,” he growled, hands clamping on my hips as he jerked upward, his body convulsing beneath me, pulsing deep inside as release overtook him.
My thighs quivered, muscles trembling as my sex clenched around him, drawing every last pulse from his cock. Heat spread through me in sharp waves, tingling down to my toes. Tears slipped free before I could stop them, the release too intense, too much.
When Alistair finally withdrew, my body ached with emptiness, already desperate to take him again. The craving was deeper than lust. It was the undeniable truth that we belonged to each other.
I rubbed my face into the warm curls on Alistair’s chest, breathing in his aroma. He had removed my skirt and blouse, leaving me in only a pair of knee-high socks. I clasped my fingers around his strong wrist, feeling the soft, fine hairs coating his skin.
Alistair’s gaze burned into mine, unwavering. “I want you. Only you. No one else.”
“You’re all I need, Scotty,” I whispered, my lips brushing his. “You know I love you.”
He smiled, fingers combing through my tangled, sweat-damp hair. Alistair was a contradiction I couldn’t get enough of: rough and possessive, yet fiercely protective and achingly tender. No amount of money in the world could buy what we’d built together: trust, honesty, faith, and hope. With him, there was no space for fear. Only safety. Only love.
But secrets? Those were another matter. Would I confess to Saph that Alistair wasMister Z?
Some secrets are best kept a mystery.
I am, after all, a master of secrets and a slave to none.
EPILOGUE
Alistair
Portofino, Italy, one year later
“Scotty, are you inside?”
“I’m out here, looking at the ocean. Care to join me, Mrs. Scott?”
I leaned back in the chair on the balcony of our Italian seaside villa, the salt air clinging to my skin. Vera stepped out, her caramel waves teased by the breeze, her hips moving in that way that always left me useless.
“Well, hello there, sexy,” she purred, slowly unbuttoning her dress shirt.
My mouth went dry as she freed her breasts, and my cock hardened instantly. I could never get enough of her. She was my light against the darkness. My wife. A few months had passed since we said our vows in that old chapel in Lester Harbor, surrounded by family and a handful of friends.
We moved to Dubai shortly after and delayed our honeymoon until now. Vera wanted it to be a family trip with Damian during his school vacation. She had just returned fromthe next-door apartment, where he slept under the watch of our security guard. She had wished him good night as if he were her own son.
“I love you,” I murmured, pressing my face into her breasts and breathing her in. She smelled like fresh flowers after rain.
“I love you too,” she whispered, kissing the inside of my wrist.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, tugging her shirt down to bare her shoulder.
Her smile stretched wide. “I’m happy. Saph called earlier today.”
“Oh?”
“She and Julian love Port Willington. They’re grateful for what you’ve done.”
“I haven’t done anything.” I lifted a brow, pretending innocence. All I did was make a quick call to a prestigious university on the West Coast, where Julian was offered a top teaching position. He needed a change of scenery away from Lester Harbor to fully heal.
Vera wagged a finger at me. “Do you know what happens to naughty little boys who lie?”
“We get lucky?” I tested, taking her nipple between my lips. Her breast was warm, perfect, her skin tasting faintly of salt and her perfume.
