Page 103 of Playboy’s Purgatory

This time the tears that fill my eyes have nothing to do with old wounds and everything to do with this man. I reach for him without hesitation and with an open heart. My hands find his shoulders and pull him closer.

When he reaches for a condom, I hold his gaze and shake my head slowly. “I’m on birth control. I trust you, Jettson. I want to feel all of you.”

His mouth finds mine in a tender kiss. It’s full of love and promises of tomorrow. When he slides inside me, I feel every single inch.

With nothing between us, the sensation of his piercings dragging along my walls has my thighs tightening around his waist and my head falling back. I don’t worry about holding myself up. Jettson slides an arm around my back, and his fingers wrap around the nape of my neck to support me.

I give myself over to him. To every thrust that fills me. To every slow drag back out.

Our mouths stay fused and he only gives me enough room to breathe when necessary. It’s intense. The intimacy of being so close.

His thrust are deep and shallow. The roll of his hips is hypnotic and I match his movements. We’re groaning and moaning, the sound filling the small office.

With his forehead pressed against mine, he looks down between us. I follow his gaze and watch how my arousal glistens on his shaft.

“Fuck,” he groans, “never seen anything hotter.”

He slams home harder, his control fraying, and swallows down the sounds I make. When he starts rotating his hips while buried to the hilt, my orgasm hits me out of nowhere. My nails dig into his shoulders, and he grunts against my lips.

“Just like that, Lara,” his words are slurred as he fills me one more time.

The warmth of his cum hits my walls and I shudder. I feel every jet and it only heightens my pleasure.

This man.

Am I ready to stop making him prove the truth of who he is to me and, instead, build a life with him worth every single moment it takes to build it, even the hard ones?

CHAPTER 26

PLAYBOY

I just finished putting the last dish in the dishwasher when my phone chimes. After I pull it out and read the message, I slowly turn toward Lara who is curled up on the couch. The sound of Vanessa singing to herself comes from down the hallway.

Everything is perfect.

But this text is going to pull me away from it and I’m not sure if the man who comes to the door later will be welcome.

Lara looks up at me and her face smooths out. “What’s wrong?”

I chuckle because of course she would know something’s wrong. My woman might not be able to say she loves me, not explicitly yet at least, but she knows me.

“You know we’ve been tracking Lola,” I start and she nods, but the look in her eyes tells me she already knows. “She was located and she just arrived back at the compound.”

Lara closes her eyes for a moment, and I step closer to her. I wait, half expecting her to hold up a hand and stop me. When she doesn’t, I close the distance between us, sit next to her, and pull her onto my lap. When she melts into me, I wrap my arms around her and hold her firmly.

I never want her to wonder if I’ll support her. I want her to simply trust that I will.

Even if it only means a hand on her back.

“Do you want to be there?”

My question startles Lara and her head snaps up so fast that she almost takes out my chin and nose. I lean back just in fucking time.

“You would let me be there?” Her question is filled with genuine bafflement.

“Of course,” I smooth a hand down her spine, “not only is she the person who tortured you growing up, but most recently she was actively trying to put your life, along with Vanessa’s, in danger by framing you after stealing from the club. You have every right to be there.”

“I,” she pauses and swallows hard, her lips closing and opening once, “I, honestly, hadn’t thought about whether or not I wanted to be there.”