I want to be buried balls deep in this woman, this entity I claim as mine
Put yo dick in her, make her sing…
Unable to hold back the bubbling, electric rush of love I feel for her, I grab her hips, sliding my hands to her ass as I lift her until we’re face to face, then stamp my lips to hers, pushing my tongue between them in a bruising, filthy kiss. I’m going to fuck you breathless.
Is it weird to yearn to grow old enough that she needs hip replacements? Fuck it—put us on oxygen tanks, have us going harder for longer.
Yeah… that is a fucking weird chain of thought.
The crowd lingers around us, and I’m hit with the memory of what she whispered before we left. The filthy promises of how the night will end. Pretty sure she asked me to take her on a balcony overlooking Vegas.
No need to worry about anyone below.
I’m not planning to pull out.
Already covered that, my guy. Our pullout game is weak.
I kiss her once more.
My mouth claiming hers in a way that leaves no space for misinterpretation, no question of who she belongs to and who I am to her. I groan in appreciation.
Houston, we have a problem… we are ready to launch.
Delay countdown. I repeat… delay countdown.
Somewhere behind us, a whistle cuts through the air.
Logan groans. “Okay, motherfucker, you just made a woman pass out from watching…feel free to end it before it gets X-rated.” I ignore him.
I don’t stop until I feel her breath falter against my mouth, until her hand brushes against the belt of my pants. Only then do I pull back, with a fuck ton of sheer will, as her eyes open, dazed, hooded, entirely mine.Am I hard? Fuck, yes. Do I care. Abso-fucking-lutely-not. I want more. Need more.Sam leans across the table immediately. “I think you just got some of these patrons pregnant. Tone it down, Casanova.”
“I am not going to apologize for giving you a stiffy,” I mutter, not even looking at him.
Call me the boner fairy, biotch.
Sam snorts into his drink, but my attention is already back where it belongs.
Seraphina.
“Sorry to make a spectacle of you baby, you okay?”
“I-I think so.”
My thumb traces her jaw.
“Ready to leave, and do some more dancing?” I ask wriggling my brows suggestively.
Outside, the night hits us in a wave of light and sound, the Las Vegas strip alive in a way that borders on overwhelming—neon blazing, music spilling from every open doorway, crowds moving in constant motion.
Security falls into place around us instantly, Niko’s men forming a seamless perimeter, their presence unmistakable in the sharp cut of their suits, the cold focus in their eyes. They don’t touch, don’t interfere, but the message is clear.
Phones still lift. Our names get called. But we continue.
My arm stays firm around Seraphina’s waist as we move, keeping her anchored against me without restricting her, letting her take it in while never quite leaving her unguarded.
She tilts her head slightly, taking everything in—the lights, the noise, the sheer excess of it all—and for a moment, she almost looks… free.
It settles something in me.
