“Sweet girl.” He slowly drags his thick, wet cock out and turns me to face him, his touch now gentle. He cradles me beneath his weight tenderly, like I'm made of something precious. It feels so good to be seen, to be held accountable, to be cared for so completely. He is my everything—the only man I’ve ever had in my life, the first and the last.
His lips meet mine, his powerful tongue demanding entry.Yes,I close my eyes and cup the back of his head, deepening his kiss, accepting it. I love his kisses—his lips, firm yet soft, his tongue as controlling as he is.
I break away, gasping for air. “The babies?—”
“Are already in the penthouse, little deer.”
I shuffle to the side. “What?”
“And Jasmine has a room on a lower level. All is taken care of, so you can let go of the reins. They are not yours.” Those searing blue eyes hold me captive. “You didn’t think I’d let youmerely drop in for ‘twenty-minutes’, did you? Not after seeing thatprettylingerie?” He tsks. “You should know me better than that.”
“Twenty?”Ugh.“Do you have a microphone in the car or something, or is HJ just the biggest rat that ever ratted?”
“He’s a rat.” Clay grins, and oh my God. I just died—that smile just stopped my fucking heart mid-beat.
“Is Lorna going to be part of your life, Sir?” I allow myself to ask, because my stomach hurts when I imagine her eyes on him. “I get jealous.”
A light grin plays on his lips. “Territorial?”
I giggle. “Just plain jealous.”
“Not often, sweet girl.”
Ugh, I don’t like her.
Licking my lips, I know exactly what I need. “Can I please suck your cock, Sir? And fall asleep?”
His eyes drink me in. “Such lovely manners. Let’s have a shower, then you can suck me until you remember your place with me,se?”
I blush and nod.
CHAPTER TEN
clay
I leftmy family in the penthouse— Fawn well-fucked in my bed, my sons sleeping peacefully in the third room, Bolton at the door, and severalCosa Nostrasoldiers at key points around the corridors and elevators.
Most mornings, I wake with time to warm her up, licking her leisurely between her thighs until I’m painfully erect and need to be inside her. Not this morning. My sweet girl’s impromptu visit didn’t magically erase my plans, but alas, she keeps me on my toes.
My phone had pinged with the text I’d been expecting from Bronson, but my erection didn’t get the message, achingly hard, pulsing against her arse.
So I took her.
Flipped her onto her stomach. Lubricated my cock and fucked that sweet, soft puckering arse, chasing my own release. I told her—warned her—the first time I sank inside her tight, young pussy that she would be mine. That she would offer me her holes—all of her pretty holes.
And she does.
Such a sweet girl for me.
Which is fortunate, because my patience is already wearing thin as I face the bound figure in the commercial laundry beneath The Main. The city sleeps above us, the skyline still dark, the streets quiet.
I throw my fist into his face, his bone giving way beneath my knuckles.
Left eye.
And again.
Left eye.
