A small yawn parts her lips, and I lift her up, carrying her to the bedroom.
On the bed, she snuggles into my side in a silent warning not to leave.
“I won’t go anywhere,” I promise her.
She caresses my stomach. “I worry about you and your lack of sleep.”
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve gotten used to it.”
It takes inhuman strength not to slip inside of her, knowing I would sleep then—buried deep inside her heaven, my demons stand no chance to disturb the few peaceful moments.
I’ve been patient. I consider myself the master of my body with unshakable control, but this woman threatens it just by breathing my way. She’s not making it easy for me as her fingers inch lower, grazing my boxer briefs.
My cock is already hard and weeping. I am one touch away from saying fuck it all and just having my way with her.
This waiting is pure torture.
Taking it slow is the worst idea I’ve ever had.
But once I lose myself inside her, I’ll take and take some more, ravish and devour her, turn her into my personal fuck toy. Before that, I need her not to question anything, my feelings included.
By the time I have her, she will be willing, accepting—entirely mine.
I grip her hand and place it on my chest.
Her lips push out in a pout. She is so adorable and I am a lucky bastard. For now. Even though only stupid men believe in luck. I’ve created mine, but with her there are loose ends, variables I can’t predict the outcome of. Numerous things could go wrong, and I must prepare for every scenario.
“Sex helps with sleep,” she murmurs.
I chuckle. “You would know from your vast experience.”
She gasps, narrowing her eyes at me. “Are you making fun of me?”
I shake my head, barely containing my laughter. “No. I fucking love that it’s been only me.”
“I told you I kissed someone else before you,” she sasses me.
In an instant, I roll her onto her back, gripping the base of her neck. “Don’t remind me. I’m trying hard to forget it.”
“Why?” she breathes out, licking her lips. My good girl with a bad side loves to see me undone.
“So, I don’t go find him.” I let the threat dangle, and her eyes widen.
There’s fear but something else too. She wants to think she is a Mafia princess who has nothing to do with that world, but darkness has a way of sneaking in, corrupting everyone.
She accepts my unhinged ass because it’s nothing novel for her, sensing the power lurking behind. And power gets you drunk on it.
“What would you do to him? It wouldn’t change a thing,” she says, searching my eyes to find the substance of my core. It’s pitch black, but she’ll discover that at some point.
“What do you think I will do?” I ask, playfully.
Tilting her head, she gulps, aware of my lack of conscience, but she’s too wrapped up in this dreamlike reality. Her heart has been yearning for something like what we share her entire life, silencing her alarm bells. That’s the tragedy. Once you find what you’ve been seeking, you become blind to how you got it, what it means to have it.
“He’s dangerous.”
It takes everything in me to suppress my amusement. “Are you worried about me?”
“Yes,” she huffs, sounding annoyed.
