I feel anything but calm.
Swiftly, he is striding towards her. Ice spreads through my veins as he seizes her elbow with fingers that make her painted lips part on a silent gasp.
“Say it,” he orders, and her shoulders recoil inward as Clay's massive frame blocks out the light above her. His shadow falls across her face, and his voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "Who is she, Lorna?"
Lorna whimpers, and I see why. Not from the pain of his grip. She is in love with him; that raw fact is etched into her eyes like literal cuts.
“Your fiancé,” she breathes.
“Good girl.” He releases her and nods at the elevator, ending the conversation and ordering her away. I don’t move a muscle until she is gone, then I flip out. I storm towards the elevator and punch the down button with my finger so hard it aches. “I have to get back to our sons?—"
I am scooped up over his shoulder before I finish my sentence. “Why was she here? Why wasn’t I here? When did you leave last night? Did you meet her?” The questions pour out like emotional vomit.
He carries me down a hallway and into a bedroom, where I analyse every little thing from upside-down and through a waterfall of blonde hair. Bed made. Curtains open. No half-empty glasses. I cling to those good signs like a kitten hanging from a wall. “Tell me the truth!”
He tosses me onto the bed.
I try to scamper along it, to get to my feet, to higher ground, but he is manhandling me, flipping me onto my stomach. I feel the cool air hit my skin as he tugs my jeans and underwear down in one swift movement, the denim catching my thighs like a thick rope.
He straddles the backs of my legs. “Easy, sweet girl.”
I grip the sheets by my face and vibrate with need, craving his discipline—his attention.
When a warm hand comes down on my bare arse, I pulse everywhere. My heart. My pussy. My lungs.
“That’s it. There you go.”
He lands another.
I cry out in relief.
“Now…” he growls. “Lorna was here this morning to go over the plan for when the Family arrives, little deer,” he says, dark and smooth. “She needs to keep The District News occupied. Her heels are ridiculous. She removed them while we planned. That is all.”
His palm meets the same spot again—the sound of his slap is only rivalled by the long moan of pleasure that curls heatedly through my lips.
“You belong in my home,” he rasps. “Safe. Surrounded by your things, by our life.”
Oh, God.I needed this. What does that say about me? He’s answering my questions and spanking me to loosen the tight claws of this hormonal and eccentric creature inside me.
Another firm spank greets my raw backside, perfectly measured, placed, and soothed afterward by three circles of his warm palm. “I left this morning, not last night, and no, I did not leave to meet her.”
He is undoing his belt and lowering his trousers to his knees now, the movements commanding and rough. Warm long fingers slide between my pussy lips before pulling out my tampon. I can’t see what he’s doing but can now feel the warm press of his cock at my entrance.
And he thrusts.
Fills me entirely.
I gasp at the stretch.
At the pace.
“Yes,”he groans. “That’s it.”
Without waiting for me to adjust to the pressure inside me, he grips my hip with one hand and drags me back into histhrusts, beating yelps and moans from me, reminding me who I am. Who I belong to.
What I need.
“You think I want anything else?” he pants. “That this pussy doesn’t drive me out of my mind? That it’ll ever be enough for me? That I’ll ever have my fill?”
