Page 133 of Sins of Arrogance

She goes wild against me.

Some­day, I’m go­ing to claim this tight lit­tle hole, like I’ve claimed the rest of her. I don’t know what holds me back.

A harsh laugh sounds in­side my head, mock­ing me.

I know all right.

If I fuck her ass, she’ll see the part of me that is more mon­ster than man. The bru­tal need I hold in check ev­ery time we make love.

Just like I hold it back now. But I let my fin­ger­tip press, barely breach­ing her tight sphinc­ter.

My wife is so re­spon­sive, in­cred­i­bly beau­ti­ful in her pas­sion.

How could she think for a sec­ond I want an­other woman?

There is no other woman.

They do not ex­ist to me.

Only her. My Kara.

The pulse of my beat­ing heart.

She writhes, al­ter­nately pulling my hair and push­ing my head against her creamy curves.

“Michael! Please. It’s too much.”

A dark laugh rum­bles in my chest and I suckle harder.

“No.” An ag­o­nized groan. “Yes.” She cries out, “Don’t stop. Oh, harder, please, Michael, just a lit­tle harder.”

I give her what she wants and when her body bows in ec­stasy, I bite down more firmly on the ten­der bud in my mouth while re­leas­ing the hold on my most ba­sic in­stincts enough to press my fin­ger into her ass to the first knuckle.

She screams and comes with one body-rack­ing shud­der af­ter an­other, while I keep stim­u­lat­ing her breasts and she dry humps me un­til I come in my pants for the first time since she got preg­nant with Fitz.

I shout loud enough to wake the dead and she fi­nally goes limp, slump­ing against me.

I pull her as close to my body as I can. “Mine.”

“It goes both ways, Mick.” She nuz­zles into my neck.

Yes. It does.

Chap­ter 33: Stage-Man­aged Af­fec­tion

KARA

One of the best things about hav­ing a birth­day in early Sep­tem­ber is that it means my fa­ther doesn’t throw a huge party, do­ing syn­di­cate busi­ness un­der the guise of fam­ily bon homme.

Too close to La­bor Day, my birth­day fall­ing on the 10th is usu­ally a non­event.

Only not this year.

For some rea­son, my fa­ther de­cided his old­est daugh­ter’s 25th birth­day re­quires over-the-top fan­fare and de­cided to throw me a sur­prise party.

At Carnegie Hall.

Al­though, what­ever rea­sons Bro­gan has for this gath­er­ing, I’m sure they have noth­ing to do with cel­e­brat­ing my birth.