Page 26 of Shark’s Pride

He responded by nestling his body against mine in all the right places—with all the right pressure. I gasped and bit my lip again, accepting the beautiful torment he brought to my most sensitive tissues.

“You like that, baby?”

He worked his erection against my cleft. Shamelessly, I let my thighs fall open for more of the contact. “Baaasss.”

“Uh-uh.” He leaned in, taking my mouth in a brief but hard kiss. “That’s supposed to be ‘Yes, Bas, let’s start the sleepover now.’”

I moan-giggled. “You do not play fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, baby.”

“Says the man who just won the big round?”

He dipped his head in and regarded me with glittering eyes. His gaze was beautiful all the time but devastating when he wanted to play dirty. “Tell me who wins tonight after you’ve hit double digits on the orgasms.”

My jaw fell open. “You’re so full of it, Shark.”

He added a smirk to his naughty devil’s scrutiny. “Challenge accepted, Red.”

Chapter Four

Sebastian

One of my favorite features in the twelve-thousand-square-foot expanse of my Calabasas home was the built-in coffee station in my master suite. Sometimes the little things in life were truly the best things. Not having to trudge downstairs and across the house to the kitchen for that first cup was something I thanked my sister for daily.

I had to admit, when Pia first showed me the plans for the master suite, I’d had a good laugh. It had all seemed so over-the-top, especially given the way we grew up. After our father died, we’d been lucky to have heat and running water. Fortunately, Southern California winters were mild. On the rare nights when our place got too cold, a few of the neighbor women let us sleep on their sofas. We never got too comfortable though. I got tense taking handouts from anyone, seeing the tally marks from those debts add up on my invisible survival tote board. I also didn’t like the families getting too attached, dreamily latching on to the idea of taking care of us. Of “saving” us. If we were “saved,” there’d be obligations. And obligations meant trouble with Child Protective Services. And CPS meant the distinct possibility of separation from Pia, which had been my worst fear and completely unacceptable.

As unacceptable as the thought of parting from Abbigail.

I returned to her, pausing beside the bed to gaze at her still-sleeping form. Good Christ. She was more beautiful now than when she came to me last night, if that was even possible. Her hair was a mass of wavy flames against the pillows. Her face was soft and innocent, such an anomaly of texture from her normal animation and expression. The repose made me focus even more on the full pillows of her lips, just slightly parted as she floated in dreams.

I only had to take another step before setting Abbigail’s cup on the nightstand next to her. While circling around to the other side with my own cup, I grabbed my smart pad off the dresser to check on emails. Morning rituals were hard to break—some absolutely necessary. But I didn’t want to wake her if she still wanted to sleep. Seeing her soft body snuggled in my bed was giving me an entirely different list of morning habits I’d like to get into, though.

It wasn’t long before the coffee aroma started rousing my beauty. I leaned over and kissed her forehead through her sleep-mussed red mane.

“Good morning, baby.” My voice was deeper and quieter than I expected. Having her beside me was affecting me completely—and I liked it.

She smiled but didn’t open her eyes. On any other woman, I’d interpret the move as manipulation, a cat masquerading as a kitten. On her, it was simple magic—especially when she turned to nestle into my hip with her nose. I stroked her shoulder and back, her bare, creamy skin exposed where the covers fell away.

“I think I could get used to you naked in my bed every morning, young lady.” I closed the iPad and set it on the nightstand. I was kidding myself if I thought I’d be able to concentrate on anything but her now.

“Just the mornings, though?” she asked playfully, still not opening her eyes.

“Mmmm,” I groaned as twenty new and naughty thoughts jockeyed for pole position in the 24 Hours of Le Mans of my imagination. “Nights too.” I stroked her hair off her back and lightly scraped my nails down her spine, at least as far as our positions would allow.

“Mornings and nights,” she said, stretching onto her stomach and tempting me with the full length of her toned body. “But there are a lot of hours left in between. Mr. Shark.” She turned her face into the pillows after a slow, sweet smile. Fuck me. Okay, better than a kitten. She was my adorable little fox, with that fiery mane and her furtive, innocent ways.

Motivated to movement by the thought, I straddled her hips with my body. Once there, I offered, much less playfully, “I could tie you to my bed and never let you leave. That would solve the whole problem.”

Though I couldn’t see her reaction, I sure as hell felt it as her body tensed beneath me. My cock swelled again. I let primal instincts flow, gathering her hair up into one mass of red glory. I pushed it up, piling it above her on the pillow. So damn perfect.

“No sassy remark for that idea?” I goaded while settling my weight onto her ass and hips. My action pressed her deeper into the mattress. I reveled in the savage satisfaction of the moment.

“Ummm…” I sensed her hard gulp. “Too early to be sassy.”

I scraped a few stray tendrils off her neck and wasn’t gentle about it. “And that’s your whole truth?”

“And…what you’re doing feels too good to think straight.”