Page 107 of Sins of Arrogance

Fast. Deep. Hard.

My body re­sponds.

In­stantly. Ravenously. Won­der­fully.

Ev­ery mus­cle tight­ens, a string pulled taut, the ten­sion build­ing so fast my vi­sion goes white at the edges.

This shouldn’t be hap­pen­ing so fast. It shouldn’t feel this good this quickly. But it al­ways does with him.

I try to say his name, but it comes out a sob.

“Come for me,” he growls against my lips. “Now.”

The com­mand un­does me.

I break and arch into him as the or­gasm crashes through me sharp, sud­den, and over­whelm­ing.

Trem­bling around him, my body con­vulses with a force that shat­ters me into pieces only he can put back to­gether.

Like he has so many times be­fore.

Mick groans and drives in deep, once, twice…

And then he fol­lows, hips jerk­ing as he spills in­side me, his big body go­ing rigid with his cli­max.

For a long mo­ment, we stay like that.

His breath is ragged in my ear. Mine is caught some­where in my chest.

My body is still clench­ing around him, the af­ter­shocks drag­ging out like echoes in a canyon.

When he fi­nally pulls out and col­lapses be­side me, I just stare at him wide-eyed, chest heav­ing.

“Well,” I breathe. “That was…”

“Yeah,” Mick mut­ters, drap­ing an arm over his eyes. “Fast.”

“It’s not the first time.” So, why does it sur­prise me nearly ev­ery time the flames burn so hot and fast be­tween us?

You’d think af­ter seven years, I’d be used it.

I’m so not.

“No.” He turns his head, look­ing at me. There’s a lazy, sat­is­fied smile on his face.

“Still think we should’ve gone to din­ner?” I mur­mur.

His body tenses and then he leaps to his feet. “Feckin’ hell! Din­ner.”

“Come on, Mick. It’s okay if we miss one fam­ily din­ner.” I’m usu­ally the one who wor­ries about meet­ing fam­ily ex­pec­ta­tions, but right now?

I just want to lay here and bask.

“It’s not that. I had to can­cel lunch with Dier­dre to­day, so I’m tak­ing her to din­ner.”

Ev­ery atom of plea­sur­able con­tent­ment dis­ap­pears from my body faster than it came, the heat still warm­ing my in­sides turn­ing to ice.

I sit up. “You’re tak­ing Dier­dre to din­ner?” I de­mand. “Af­ter that?”