Page 60 of Worth Risking It

Doubts swirled my head and my grin fell. “I sometimes don’t think I’m right for you.”

His brows furrowed, his movements pausing. “Why?”

“Because…because I spoke without thinking with the Russian, I sassed your father, and tonight—”

“Tonight, was not your fault. Some poor bastard took one look at an exquisite woman and wanted her. Hell, I can’t very well blame the poor son of a bitch for having impeccable taste.”

“But…” I gulped, my nails dragging from his ass to his sides.

His eyes rolled and his lids closed, a shudder rocking his frame, goosebumps tightening his skin. It was exhilarating knowing I caused that reaction just by touching four inches of his flesh.

“Fuck, don’t stop.”

Teetering between hedonism and fear, I traced my fingertips over his sides and torso, loving the facial expressions I was rewarded with. There was no way I could ever deny this man was obsessed with me.

When my fingers grazed over his nipples, he took a sharp inhale and tensed, so I focused my attention there for a moment. Straining my neck, I lifted toward him, flicking my tongue out to one before gently nipping my teeth.

“Oh, shit,” he wheezed, dropping his chin to bury his lips in my hair.

Covering his skin with my mouth, I sucked hard, my fingers splaying across his back. I could actually feel his groan vibrate in his chest. Letting go, I tipped my head and gazed up at him.

“Milo, make love to me.”

Growling, he dipped low, crushed his lips to mine, and pumped in and out. I fell to the sheets and clung to him, our bodies writhing in a leisure but affectionate rhythm. He leaned to one side and tucked a hand between us, circling my clit without breaking our dance.

“Cum, baby girl,” he whispered, scattering kisses across my face. “I’m already there and I want you cumming with me.”

He dropped his head and sucked on a nipple, his cock stroking my pussy, his fingers working my clit. I stilled, letting the sensations build pressure in my gut. Curving my spine toward him, I clenched my lids against the spinning room, the orgasm washing over a bit at a time until suddenly, my hips bucked, and I was screaming.

“Oh, fuck,” he croaked, wrapping his arms beneath me, clinging tightly. His face buried in the crook of my neck, we thrashed together, our pants and grunts mixing and making an ado that filled the quietness of the house.

“Milo!” I shrieked, reaching the highest point of the climb. My jaw fell, my body moving uncontrollably as he shoved deep, growled, and came, rocking side to side until he was empty.

Gasping, he collapsed on top of me and then rolled us to our sides, our legs twined, our bodies coated in sweat.

“Goddamn, it always feels as good as the first time. How is sex so good with you, baby girl?”

I giggled, licking my dry lips. “Because you love me.”

Groaning, he nuzzled my jaw, licking at the sweat. “That’s for sure. And you are perfect for me, don’t ever doubt that.”

Pouting, I resituated my head on the pillow, grazing my nails up and down his bicep. “I dunno.”

“Hey.” He sat up on an elbow, caressing my shoulder. “Look at how calm you were with the Russian—”

“Calm?” I snickered, gawking. “I had to have Wyatt pull over because I puked.”

“But he didn’t know that. Baby girl, when you asked me if I was in the mafia, and I told you the truth, you didn’t freak out, you didn’t panic. You said, ‘Huh, wow.’”

I snorted and blushed, covering my eyes for a moment.

“And tonight, you didn’t panic. Yeah, I saw you were scared, but you didn’t panic, you didn’t freak out. Christ, you haven’t even cried.”

My brows lifted, my lips pursing. “I didn’t throw up,” I pointed out.

His smile lit up his face. “Less than two hours after I shot and killed a man in front of you, we are lying in bed, naked, and just made love.”

Sighing, I petted his jawline, searching his features.