Like my words are a trigger, he jerks below me, bellowing into the bedding as I feel him come again, and I can’t hold back. My release bursts from me, the force taking me by surprise, and I practically fall into him as pleasure consumes my body.
When I can finally breathe again, I push myself off him, knowing I’m heavy, then I slowly pull from his ass and watch his abused hole drip with my cum. The sight is so fucking sexy, I lean down and bite his cheek before licking him clean.
His elbow catches me, pushing me off as he flips over. Panting, helooks at me with wide eyes, and I grin in satisfaction. “I should buy a million bikes,” he teases, making us both laugh.
When I can walk, I head to the bathroom and clean up before helping him, then I toss the towel into the laundry basket in the bathroom since he looks like he has no intention of moving. That’s fine. I’ll always look after my baby.
I climb into bed and pull him against my chest, and he sighs happily as I kiss his forehead. “I could deal with this, you know?” he murmurs, drawing circles on my chest.
“What?” I ask.
“Working and coming home to you. It’s domestic. It’s nice.” He looks up at me, his eyes sparkling, and I fall into their depths. “Knowing you’re there . . . I always come home to an empty house, but you’ve spoiled me.”
“Good. I want to spoil you. I might not have as much money as you do, but I’ll never make you feel lonely. I’ll never let you eat or sleep alone. I’ll spoil you every day, so you never want to leave me. It’s my evil plan,” I tease, dragging my hand down his back.
“So evil.” He presses a kiss over my pounding heart. Does he know it only beats for him? “Good night, baby.”
“Good night, Zia.” I kiss him again and close my eyes, feeling happier than I’ve ever been.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Islept in. That hasn’t happened since I was a child. I’m always up at dawn, ready for school or work, but I only just woke up and our bed is empty. I shower and dress in some flowy white pants and a tight, sleeveless shirt, the back cut in a V, leaving it backless with diamonds strung across it. It makes me feel powerful and confident, and I can’t wait to see Nikko’s reaction. I hurry downstairs and head into the dining room, where I can hear the clinking of plates and glasses.
“Good morning. I thought we could—” I freeze, the words dying in my throat.
My father is sipping his coffee, looking warily at our guest. Nikko is sitting upright, his eyes hard as he glares at someone sitting opposite him, who turns at my voice and smiles.
Faiz.
“Good morning, Z,” he says brightly. “You look beautiful today.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I came for breakfast.” He shrugs as he wipes his mouth and tosses the napkin down.
He stands, buttoning his suit out of habit, and tugs out the chair next to him. I see Nikko slump with his arm on the chair next to him,ready to let me sit, so I step around the table and take that seat. I lean into Nikko’s arm as he drapes it over my shoulders, making it very clear where my loyalties lie.
My father watches me proudly, and Nikko pours me a coffee. “Just how you like it,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek. “You do look beautiful today.”
“Thank you,” I reply as I take a sip. His hand drops, dragging down my exposed back, and when I glance up, I notice he’s completely ignoring Faiz now, his eyes focused on my exposed skin. I look away and meet Faiz’s gaze. He’s scowling, but his expression quickly changes to a smile when he catches me looking.
“We have a meeting today to go check on the new site. I thought I would pick you up to make it easier. Have you told Nikko it’s our brain baby we’ve been building for years?” He looks at Nikko. “Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t understand. You’re a boxer, not a businessman. All fists, probably not much brain.”
“I don’t pretend to understand all of Zia’s businesses, since he can handle it himself, just like I can handle myself. Instead, we just support each other,” Nikko replies, stroking my back as I look between them.
“How is the new site doing?” my father asks, trying to change the subject and coming to Nikko’s defense.
“There were some hiccups, but it’s all back on track now,” Faiz answers.
“I was asking my son,” my father snaps.
Faiz’s smile turns brittle for a moment. “Of course, Father, my apologies.”
“You lost the right to call me Father. It’s Mr. Xander,” my father warns. “Nikko, I was thinking we could play chess outside today.”
“That sounds great to me, Mr. Xander,” Nikko replies respectfully.
“It’s Father, remember?” my dad says, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
