“We shouldn’t…” I said, losing my train of thought. His fingers glided in and out with forceful pumps.
“Yes, we should.”
“This is…this is just a com-competition to you.” A strangled gasp escaped me as his fingers toyed with my clit, my slit, then plunged inside me again. He pumped, then flicked, then caressed until I could barely hold myself up. My mind went foggy.
“Is it?”
“You didn’t come,” I said with a whimpered groan. My hips took on a mind of their own. They rocked to his movements and chased his fingers for more. “For four days. You didn’t come until I was out with Jo—”
“Don’t say their names,” he growled. “I could punish you for even thinking of them while I touch you.”
His rhythm increased, almost punishingly so, relentless and demanding, just like him, and I was here for it.
“Why now?” My voice was strangled with need.
“Because of this.” His fingers impaled me forcefully and stayed there. I clenched around them, lifting my hips up and down despite his grip around my neck, chasing that godly high. The caresses of his thumb against my clit sharpened every peak and drop. “Your body. Your sweetness. Your determination. Your voice. Your heart. But most of all because I need to show you what you mean to me. You infested my brain like a disease. I can’t get you out. I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’ll never want that.”
Only then did he start moving again. Everything electrified, the world outside of us muted. It was just us. I could hear how deep his every breath was. I could practically taste him from where I was, a potent mix of salty and sweet. My body thrummed and pulsed until it was almost too much. Suddenly, it all burst into wave after wave of ecstasy, colors flashing behind my closed eyes, my ears ringing. I moaned through it all and lost my grip on the headrest, clutching his shoulder instead.
“Good girl. That’s it.” He nosed my cheek. “No one but us.”
Us. That was the fantasy, wasn’t it?
“What is this, Renzo?” I asked breathily, my eyes still closed. If I couldn’t see, the fantasy of whatever this was wouldn’t end.
“Whatever you want.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You. This. Us. I’m prioritizing.”
“What?” I pulled back to read his expression.
“Right now, my men are raiding Dimakos’ hide-out. But I’m not there. I’m with you. Exactly where I want to be.” He pulled me down on top of his thighs, the bulge of his hard shaft smacking between my legs. My breath caught.
“Why?”
“You know why.” Then he whispered, his breath hot and heavy, “You’re my woman.”
I shook my head against his cheek. “But you didn’t show up. You never even called. Just messages.” He bit my earlobe, and I gasped.
“I gave you time, like you needed, but I refuse to cut contact. Don’t ask me to do that.”
“Why didn’t you come for me before?”
“If I showed up the first day, would you have forgiven me?” he whispered, then bit my ear a little harder, enough to shock a little clarity back into my brain.
“No,” I murmured.
“I know.” He sucked where he’d bitten, and I shivered. “You needed a little time to be wooed so I could show you exactly what you mean to me.”
I thought back to the absurd diversity of gift baskets, flowers, and more. It felt like an explosion of whatever came to mind, with added personal touches. “And what’s that?”
“Everything. You mean everything, and I’ll give you everything.”
I chortled. “You think it’s that easy?”
“For what we have? What we’ve been through? Absolutely.”
