They dropped into the deep water, waves swirling and the lights shimmering. She kept her eyes open as the passionate embrace continued, Pierre turning them in circle after circle. A full minute passed by as he thrust his tongue inside, never breaking the connection of their mouths.
A second minute passed as he crushed her body against his, the momentum of his pull forcing them in another series of circles. Their tongues entwined, teeth gnashing together and in a split second of utter terror, the air seemed to run out.
Pierre pushed hard against the bottom of the pool, jetting them to the surface. The second they both broke free, he tipped his head back and roared.
She threw her legs around his hips, gyrating until his cock slipped easily inside. Everything about this moment was mind-blowing, the perfect escape from reality.
His expression was carnal as he lowered his head, his breathing ragged. “There is nowhere you can go to escape my control.”
Clinging to him, the erotic dance became intrinsic as he pumped in slow motion. Water splashed all around them, creating a glowing halo. There was no stopping this man.
Her lover.
Her dominator.
Her enemy.
The danger was a powerful aphrodisiac, creating a wave of electricity that consumed both of them. He held her head as he turned in another series of circles, swimming toward a breathtaking waterfall. The roar of the water matched their animalistic moans as the pull from the generated waves dragged them under the heavy stream.
Sophia finally closed her eyes as he thrust in and out, a climax rushing from her curled toes. There was no holding back, no concept of asking for permission. She was simply lost in the extreme bliss. “Oh. Oh…” Sensing his own needs taking over, she clamped down her pussy muscles, the move shattering their last resolve. As he erupted, spewing his seed deep inside, she rested her head on his shoulder and prayed.
That nothing would tear them apart.
CHAPTER 7
Bloodshed. There’d been too much of it during the last month and none of it by his own hands. His brother had taken every opportunity to make his mark, accepting missions as if the assassinations mattered to no one but the extended families. In his mind, Gabriel had been far too careless, leaving a calling card a mile wide.
But Wrath was no longer in charge of the contracts.
The anger remained, a bitterness at the circumstances, but he’d been forced to learn patience.
Wrath had taken a significant chance finding Ashley, especially since the consortium had halted all manners of business for a cooling-off period.
With one exception.
He studied the way the moonlight shimmered on her face, his balls tightening. She was his nemesis, a woman who could potentially bring down the entire kingdom. She had no idea of her level of importance, nor did she seem to care. At least he now knew her real name and it suited her. Sophia Waters. FederalAgent Sophia Waters. The irony wasn’t lost. They’d both hidden their true identities given their respective training. Good versus evil.
He’d traced Sophia’s activities since leaving him in the dust in Monte Carlo. She’d been quite clever in her abilities to hide Stephen Wallace until leaving Monaco, but she was no longer in charge of babysitting him. The fools who were had gotten sloppy, slipping their location and allowing Wrath to find the safe house with ease. They hadn’t bothered to take the mark out of the state, which would be a huge mistake that would haunt them. From what he’d been able to determine, Stephen would remain on lockdown for another week. That was the methodology of the FBI. After that and if no other attempts had been made on the man’s life, Stephen would be set free.
Only he’d be dead by then.
“You have one last chance, Ricardo, or the consortium will take matters into their own hands. You are a fool if you think you can beat them at their own game. They are the masters of this. Have I taught you nothing, boy?”
How many times had the words been repeated by his father before he’d left Italy? Far too fucking many. He’d been brought in front of the consortium, sanctioned for his failures and threatened with banishment just as his father had mentioned. He’d left the chambers issuing his own veiled threat, one driven from his own arrogance. The men hadn’t taken kindly to his behavior, sending a threat of their own.
Destruction of his family’s wealth and stature.
He’d placed himself in a precarious position with his anger and frustration. Only Angelo had talked him down off the ledge,convincing him to apologize to the leader. That had merely appeased the consortium, enough to sanction his trip to the United States, but only after a period of reflection as they called it.
Their form of punishment.
Wrath had heeded their ruling, gathering his strength and biding his time, and all he’d been able to think about was the fiery woman who’d ignited every blood cell.
Sophia walked through the living room, studying the various pieces of art almost haphazardly hanging on the wall. “Does the house belong to you?” she asked.
“The agent who sold it to me assured me this was a steal.” Wrath moved into the kitchen, reaching for the already opened bottle of wine, pouring two glasses. After learning of her true identity, he’d gone about hiding it. The trouble had been keeping the knowledge from the members of the group. They would have assigned another the contract to end her life without question.
And the end would have been ugly, perhaps for Wrath himself.
