“I know, Angel. Time to shake these walls with your screams.”
With my jaw locked, I can manage only a nod as the pressure twists my insides until it’s almost unbearable. “Harder,” I beg. “Fuck me harder.”
The arm roped around my shoulder tightens as he pounds into me while his free hand moves lower. Hisfingers only have to glance off my clit and my body detonates. My back arches as my head tips back and I scream. “Duke! Damn, yes! Yes!”
A wave of white heat rushes to every one of my nerve endings, burrowing deep into my bones and setting off one explosion after the other. The rolling wave of ecstasy doesn’t stop as he drops forward, holding me with one arm while he braces against the other.
There’s no rhythm to how he drives into me. His need to fill me has reached its frenzied peak. “Fuck,” he moans in a long, drawn-out hiss. “Damn it, Grace. You. Are. Perfection.”
He rolls his hips and I grind against him as we use what little strength we have left to milk out our orgasms. His cum mixes with mine, dripping down my thighs as he withdraws. We collapse onto our bed of towels and he pulls my back to his chest.
Unable to speak, Duke peppers kisses along my arms, my shoulder, my neck. My breathing slows as I settle into the warmth of his love.
I know if I close my eyes, I’ll fall asleep. I glance at the mirror instead. I meet his stare.
“I can’t wait to get you in a bed again,” he complains. “Although getting you out of it might be a problem.”
“Can we do that?” I ask. “When this is over, can we spend a day in bed, just like we did at the Exemplar?”
“I might even let you choose the movie again. Maybe one that’s a little easier to play out than Serendipity.”
“What about the Godfather?”
His laughter rumbles in his chest. “I promise my life isn’t usually this complicated.”
After what happened at the restaurant, I’m about to askif the Irish mafia are now included in that complication, but the intercom on the wall buzzes.
“I hate to interrupt, Mr. Moncrief,” Ed says in his best professional tone. “But you have two very impatient visitors.”
“Fuck, it’ll be my brothers,” Duke says with a groan as he peels himself off me and rises to his feet. He fixes his pants, but before he goes to answer Ed, he grabs my clothes. He kisses my forehead as he hands them over. “One bed, one whole weekend and no damn interruptions. I promise.”
“Thank you,” I say with a post-orgasmic, woozy smile.
Duke is shrugging into his shirt as he presses the intercom. “Hey, can you get rid of them?”
The answer isn’t immediate and I’m fastening my bra when there’s a click. “No, he fucking can’t,” comes a deep, commanding voice. It sounds familiar, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t one of his brothers.
“Who is it?” I whisper.
Duke rakes his fingers through his hair. I can see him weighing up his options. He rolls his eyes. “Someone who isn’t going to go away.” He stabs a finger at the intercom. “Hey, Hunter. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I slip one arm into my dress then struggle to find the other. My brush with danger on Saturday night was scary enough, and I don’t know if I can cope with a Griffin. Or two apparently. I’m just going to have to hide out in the bathroom.
“It’s not you we’re here to see, asshole,” Hunter says. “Maddie wants to talk to Grace.”
“Give me two minutes,” Duke grumbles, but he’s smirking as he watches me tie myself up in knots as I quickly try to get dressed. “It’s OK, Grace, take a breath.”
“But they’re… they’re waiting.” I dare a glance in the mirror. “And I look…” I might be able to smooth back my hair, but there’s a post-coital flush to my cheeks that isn’t going to fade any time soon.
“You look thoroughly fucked. And so fucking beautiful,” Duke adds while I have a meltdown.
He guides my arm into the sleeve of my dress and starts buttoning it up. Slowly. Calmly. Like we haven’t got a powerful and dangerous man and his wife waiting for me to pull myself together.
As Duke buttons up his shirt, he kisses my cheek. “I’ll go and greet them while you freshen up.”
I groan. I’m still going to smell of sex when I go out there. I should start carrying a survival kit to use after ourmeetings. At the very least a fresh pair of underwear. “Shit,” I say before Duke can leave the bathroom. “My panties are on the floor somewhere by your desk. And my shoes.”
“I’ll get them.”
