I wait. This is the moment I’ve been dreading. The moment she has no choice but to face what I do—the violence and brutality that exists in my world.
Her gaze darts to the bloody shirt on the floor. I wait for her to recoil, to realize this isn’t a life she wants. Not a man she wants to be tied to.
Instead, she moves closer. Water streams over both of us, soaking her hair and running in rivulets down her skin. Her lips press against my chest, soft but deliberate, right over my heart.
My breath catches as she sinks to her knees, her hand on my hip for balance.
I catch her arm to stop her. The adrenaline from the night is still running sharp through my veins. “Sera, it’s not a good idea right now. I’m still wired. I won’t be able to be gentle.”
“Good.” Her hands slide down my thighs and back up again before reaching around to cup my ass.
Her nails dig in when she takes me into her mouth, and a guttural sound escapes from somewhere deep in my chest. My fingers automatically thread into her wet hair as the heat of her mouth and slick press of her tongue overwhelm me. When her tongue flicks, teasing the underside, my grip tightens, and she moans. The sound makes my control slip further. I wrap the wet strands around my fist, using it to guide her in an almost punishing rhythm.
“Sera…” I gasp, desperate for oxygen, as my pulse hammers in my head.
She looks up at me, droplets catching her lashes. The sight makes my heart seize. It’s not just the unbelievable physical sensations thundering through me—it’s her trust. The completewordless acceptance of who I am. A fierce and sudden urge to show her the same surges through me.
Tension coils tight at the base of my spine when her cheeks hollow out, and I reach for my control. I’m not ready for this to end.
“Wait.” Scooping her under the arms, I pull her up and lift her. Pressing her back against the tile, my mouth crashes onto hers.
Her nails rake my shoulders, and I know I’ll bear the marks tomorrow.
“Please,” she mewls, writhing against me, as she locks her ankles at the small of my back.
One hand supporting her weight, I use the other to line myself up. I nip at her lips as I thrust hard inside, filling her completely.
“Liev!” The raw, needy sound snaps what’s left of my control. Cradling the back of her head with my palm, I set a deep, rough rhythm, no longer holding back.
“Harder,” she cries, voice breaking. “Don’t stop.”
Her teeth close on my flesh where my neck meets my shoulder. I growl and drive deeper, angling my hips so each thrust grinds against her clit. My lips capture hers when she screams, our tongues tangling in a messy, desperate kiss.
My breath comes in short gasps, and I rack my brain for something to focus on other than her body trembling against mine, and her inner walls fluttering around me. Reaching between us, I find the sensitive bundle of nerves and circle it with firm pressure, pushing her over the edge. She shudders, and clamps around me. The sound and feel of her coming, is my undoing. Pleasure crashes through me, and I bury my face in her neck.
We stay like that for a minute, breathing hard, water cooling around us. I keep her pinned against the wall, my foreheadresting against hers, our hearts pounding in sync. Slowly, I ease her down but keep my arms around her.
She presses a kiss to my chest. “You should go play gangster more often.” She slaps my chest lightly with the back of her hand and reaches for a towel. “Totally worth it.”
Sera’svoice is soft but insistent. When I crack an eye open, I find her perched on the edge of the mattress, already dressed.
“What time is it?” I groan.
“Seven thirty. You got a solid two hours.”
I roll on my stomach and pull a pillow over my head. “Five more minutes.”
“Nope,” she says, popping the “p.”
“Plane leaves at ten. We need to get moving.” She leans down, grips the back of my hair just hard enough to lift my head, and presses a quick kiss to my mouth. “Up.”
The moment she releases me and shifts her weight, I sweep an arm around her waist and topple her onto me. “Say good morning nicely, wife.”
She rolls her eyes, straddles my lap properly, and gives me a quick peck. “Good morning, husband,” she says in a mock-weary voice.
I smile. “Thank you.” My hands settle on her hips. “What’s the plan for today?”
“Keke is officially fired, but Atelier Florian is still letting us use their jet to get back to Atlanta.”
