He grips my chin and nibbles along my jaw, each kiss dipped in sensuality, seducing me.
He’s getting his way.
I know it.
He knows it.
The truth might be stamped on my heart next to his name, tattooed there in permanent ink.
“Mm-hmm,” I say, desperate for his ministrations.
“Is that a yes?” he asks, his voice hoarse, causing goose bumps to rise on my feverish skin.
Will I ever get enough of him? I doubt it.
“Does it sound like one?” I could pat myself on the back with pride that I am still somewhat coherent, in control when he so easily strips me bare with a flick of his fingers.
There’s freedom in surrender. In those moments, nothing else matters.
“It does.”
Done playing, I lift myself up his torso, my legs going around his thighs. Planted in his lap, I lock my arms around his neck, play with the ends of his hair, and lean in to whisper above his lips, “Because it is.”
His eyes shine with so much delight it makes my heart leap from my chest, rolling straight into his palm. He’ll take care of it.
“You make me the happiest man alive. You’re my happiness, Zara.”
He’s so open with his feelings, so selfless in showering me with his love. The contrast between the man I thought he was and the one he is makes me feel special. Only I experience this side of him.
“I’ll have to handle some things first.”
He shuts his eyes for a moment, his voice ending on an impatient rasp. “For how long?”
“A week.”
He groans, making the smile on my face a permanent fixture.
“You had me to yourself for two weeks.”
His fingers dig into my waist, the display of possessiveness threatening to undo me. “Not enough. I need more. I need forever.”
I shake my head at him, grinning like the smitten woman I am.
Love in the underworld is something rare and precious. Even though I’ve witnessed it around me, it always comes with pain. The price we pay, perhaps, for the lives we lead.
I am glad my marriage turned into a lifetime bond. I’ve found my partner, my person, my soulmate in a world where I thought love had no place.
Maybe it’s too much, mixing business with personal matters, but they’re interconnected. Together we could become even greater—people you truly don’t want to mess with. It’s less for the love of money and the desire for power, and more to preserve the frail hope of safety.
I am just starting my life with him. I don’t want it to end at all, but ending too soon would be unfathomable, and I would never recover.
The flight passes in a blur of open-mouthed kisses, heated glances, and gentle touches, each laying another brick in our foundation.
When the jet lands, we step out into a sunny Chicago day, summer in full bloom.
The car waits for us on the tarmac, several black SUVs behind it. This is reality.
His throat rumbles with a sound of protest, making me believe we’re thinking the same thing, so I offer him a small smile, hoping to convey the message that it is what it is, but we’ll make it work. Together.
