Page 24 of Shark’s Pride

He trailed a series of nips along my jawline, his stubble awakening even deeper pools of my lust. “Jesus,” he erupted. “You’re a dream, Abbigail. My responsive, sexy little girl. I can feel every quiver in your tight, sweet cunt.”

“For you.” It was romantic mush and I knew it, but it also felt so damn right. “All for you.”

“And we’re just getting started, baby.” He whispered it between kisses along my cheeks and over my forehead. “I want it all from you, Abbi. Everything. Don’t hold back on me.”

I tilted my head up, slanting my lips over his in an openmouthed bite. “Hurt me, Bas,” I begged, my teeth bared. “Fuck me. Do it. Plea—ohhh!”

My scream gashed the air as he did the same to my body. Every shred of my senses was filled with the pressure of his punishing stabs. I was mindless. Thoughtless. Weightless. There was nothing but Sebastian, bruising me from the inside out.

“Abbigail. Oh, Abbigail. Jesus. Oh, fucking Christ…”

And then taking me beyond that with his dirty, husky litany. And his brutal thrusts. And his spiraling heat—

Until I was blindly exploding.

“Draw it out, girl.” His snarl sounded far away, a demand through the golden haze of my orgasm.

I nodded eagerly, ready to obey. As long as he kept shuttling his cock like that, I was good. So damn good.

“Don’t stop, Abbigail. Don’t stop. I’m there. I’m— Fuuuckkk!” he roared with his release spurting thick inside me. He swore softly as he began to slow, restoring us to normalcy by gradual increments. If there was ever going to be a thing like “normalcy” in my world after this.

For now, I let my eyes drift closed while I enjoyed the calm. When Bas finally dragged up to rest on his elbows, I forced my gaze to reopen.

“Do I dare ask what that is all about?” I twirled a finger in the direction of his face. The gorgeous bastard was grinning as if he’d discovered a secret swimming hole on the hottest summer day.

“No need to ask, Little Red. It’s all about you.” He gave me a tender kiss. “A lot of it’s about you these days.”

I didn’t hide my own grin. “So I’m forgiven?”

“Forgiven?” Now a scowl from him. “For what?”

“Oh, let’s see…” I called his frown and raised him by a pair of arched brows. “Being a skeptical shrew this week? Treating your gifts as stunts and not heartfelt gestures?”

“So you were wrong. We’ll agree on that. But you came to your senses and admitted it, so we’re squared up, okay?”

“Squared up.” I couldn’t help quirking my lips again. “Meaning that you won.”

“Baby, I think we both won.”

My laughter took over as he punctuated his words with a blatant glance down. No mistaking what he was getting at, considering his dick was still buried deep inside me. “Well played, Mr. Shark. Truly well played.”

“Who says I’m playing?”

I pushed some dark strands off his forehead. “I know you aren’t.”

He was silent for a long second. No, more than that. Cautious? As I mentally pursued the right word, he tilted his head back to maneuver my fingertips into his mouth. After treating them to a few soft suckles, he locked me back down with his stunning blue stare.

“Stay with me tonight.”

I pulled in a long breath to buy myself some time. The decision wasn’t as easy as just hauling back the comforter and diving under the covers with him. Some—most—women would be labeling me a fool for second-guessing a sleepover invitation in this bed, but being my own boss had taught me that dream offers were rarely “dreamy.” Or easy. They usually had strings attached. It freaked me out that I couldn’t figure out Sebastian Shark’s “strings.”

“Sebastian—”

“Abbigail.”

“Just hear me out, okay?”

“No. That’s my line this time. God save us from backtracking on all the progress we’ve made here tonight.” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “I have a confession—”