Page 180 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

I pull them free from the straps while he tosses the it aside. Then his fingers trail down my stomach before hooking into the waistband of my underwear.

“Fuck,” I breathe out.

His chest rumbles with amusement behind me. Then he spreads my legs wider without saying a word. I grip the comforter tighter beneath me. His hand drags up the inside of my thigh before settling firmly on my hip.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “So fucking pretty when you listen.”

That should piss me off. Instead, it just makes me wet. I feel him move in closer between my thighs, and my breath hitches. His cock brushes against my entrance.

Oh, God.

He pushes in slowly, and the noise I make is downright embarrassing. The worst part is Michael clearly enjoys it.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he says, voice rough with approval as he thrusts. “Makes me want to spoil the fuck out of you.”

Yes, spoil me until I can’t walk.

Afterwards, we’re in the bathroom brushing our teeth when he smirks at me. Suspicion fills my body because Michael only gets that expression when he’s about to say something that embarrasses the hell out of me.

“What the fuck are you smiling about?”

He spits into the sink before rinsing his toothbrush. “Nothing. Just seems like you really enjoyed yourself in there.”

He gestures toward the bedroom with his chin.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

His grin only widens. “You were making noises I’ve never heard before in my life.”

I choke on toothpaste, and he winks at me in the mirror before walking back into the bedroom.

“Smug asshole,” I mutter around my toothbrush.

I finish brushing my teeth before pulling my curls up into a messy ponytail on top of my head. My legs still feel slightly unsteady as I walk back into the bedroom. Michael’s sitting against the headboard in nothing but a pair of black boxers. His eyes track to me as I climb onto the bed.

“What?” I ask defensively.

He smiles.

“Come here, Doll.”

I roll my eyes even as I crawl into his lap, straddling him in my shirt and panties. His hands settle on my thighs while mine slide down his chest, fingertips tracing over warm skin, ink, and dark chest hair.

“You really said fuck a shirt, huh?”

He throws his head back laughing, and I love that I can do that to him. It seems like I’m the only one who can.

“You think I’m funny?”

“Yes, Katie. I think you’re very funny,” he says reaching up and running his hand along my cheek. I lean into it.

“That’s good,” I say. “Because I’m going to be saying insane shit for the rest of my life.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

God, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with this man.

“I’ve got a question for you,” I say, sliding my hands over his shoulders.