She doesn’t respond right away, just gazes up at me, gently biting her lip, waiting for whatever comes next as she watches me kick off my jeans. As I move back toward her, she reaches out, her fingertips grazing my hip.
“You’re doing a lot of talking for someone who’s supposed to be claiming me,” she challenges.
A dry chuckle vibrates in my chest as I lean in, shadowing her completely. “Patience, darling. I was just appreciating the view first.”
I can feel her shaking with anticipation as I roll her onto her stomach, sliding her legs out with my knees to position her on all foursin front of me. I let out a deep moan at the sight of her perfect ass and cunt on full display. I grip her hips, then drag my hands down over the light imprint of my hand still lingering from earlier.
“Keep being a good girl for me, Arden. You might get a treat.”
She lets out a small, needy hum of approval. Unable to wait any longer, I place the head of my cock at her entrance. Then, slowly, inch my way in. The squeeze is so perfect I can barely contain myself. Everything about her makes me want to lose control.
I take my time, letting my hands roam from her hips to her ass, spreading her wide as I thrust in and out at a steady pace. I lean forward, my mouth hovering just above her as I let a slick thread of saliva bridge the gap between us. I use my thumb to spread it over her hole before pressing it inside.
Her moan reverberates through me, threatening to tear me apart, and I watch as she grabs fistfuls of the sheets. I reach my other hand around to trace circles over her clit, and her inner walls squeeze my cock. It’s clear how close she is, too.
I continue my rough thrusts in and out of her as she arches her back, begging for more.
“Fuck, Locke. I’m so —” She whimpers between moans. She doesn’t have to finish her sentence for me to know exactly what she means.
“Cum for me, Arden. I need to feel that tight pussy squeeze around me again.”
Her answering moan echoes through the villa. Her body goes wild, hips bucking against my thrusts, until we both topple over the edge together.
As the frenzy fades, leaving only the sound of our ragged breathing and the two of us lying in the dark together, I reach for the familiar crutch of calculated distance I use to keep the world out. But my fingers come up empty.
I’ve spent my entire life obsessed with being the one who always has control; the man who writes the narrative. But between her moans and the primal need that hooked its claws in me, I seem to have truly lost it. She hasn’t just unraveled me; she’s made me unrecognizable, even to myself.
Except, for once, that thought isn’t accompanied by fear. Just a strange sense of clarity. There’s something here with her that feels entirely worth the risk of getting close and, for the first time, actually expecting someone to stay.
Chapter 27
ARDEN
Fresh espresso is the first thing I see when I open my eyes. Sitting on the nightstand, still steaming hot. Underneath the tiny mug is a piece of paper with something scrawled on it in black ink. I pick up the drink with one hand and the note with the other, taking a sip while I read:I promised you a treat.Get ready and meet me at the door.
I jump out of bed, downing the shot. Getting dressed is easy, I already had a black t-shirt and my favorite ripped jeans set aside for today. I swap my usual boots for high-top Converse, throwing on a black beanie and a swipe of mascara to finish the look. I’m ready to go in ten minutes flat. That has to be a record.
As I reach the bedroom door, I realize I’m forgetting something. I double back, rushing to my duffel bag to retrieve the tarnished gold chain from the inside pocket. I shove it in my jeans as I exit into the hallway.
Locke is seated in a chair near the front door, a cigar balanced between his fingers. He’s in a t-shirt for the second day in a row, the cotton stretched taut across his chest and shoulders in a way that a suit could never touch. My pulse quickens, and I have to consciously force my gaze upward from the defined curve of his bicep to his face.
It’s a rare sight, Locke unbuttoned and unguarded. But I know the clock is ticking. The job will be waiting for us back in Vegas, and I have a feeling it’ll turn him back into the ‘all business’ man I first met. I’m going to enjoy every moment of the more relaxed version of him while I can.
As soon as he notices me, he stands. “I didn’t know you owned sneakers.”
“Well, I didn’t know you owned more than one t-shirt,” I quip back.
The usual edge in his expression has melted into something softer, and his lips part in a faint, amused line. “I promised you a treat. Jax is already on his way to his next show, and Nate’s taking care of everything back home, so I thought we’d just enjoy one more day in Verona together.”
I nod, a smile turning up the corner of my lips, and follow him out. There’s no driver and no car waiting. I shoot him a puzzled look. “No car?”
“I thought we could walk today,” he says with a shrug. He offers his arm, a silent command for me to intertwine mine. I accept the invitation as we continue into the nearby square.
We spend the morning and early afternoon wandering through piazzas and exploring local markets. Snaking through crowds, stopping to admire the flowers, produce, and souvenirs, and occasionally pausing for a glass of wine. There’s something about the cobblestone streets and views of the river winding through the city that makes the air itself feel romantic. Like we’ve stepped into a dream.
When Locke approaches me with a bouquet of red roses, orange zinnias, and deep purple chrysanthemums wrapped in brown paper, the breath hitches in my throat.
I try to summon a sharp remark. The kind I’ve used for years to keep people at arm’s length, but the words won’t come. My shoulders loosen, and a terrifying warmth seeps through the cracks of my composure. He’s seen the calculated side of me. The girl who looked at him and saw a mark instead of a man. Yet he’s still here, offering me flowers instead of following through on his jail threat.
