Page 68 of Last Destination

He wasn’t tentative like Nikki. He plundered, taking his time with a thorough exploration and tasting every part of my mouth he could touch, stealing my breath along with it. He unleashed a dam. Every feeling he did not know how to say but wanted to show, and I felt every conflicting one of them: tenderness, ownership, even a deep, longing pain I felt in my bone marrow.

He fell backward on the sand but refused to pull away from where we were connected, hauling me along with him. I fell on top of his hard chest, and his hands left my chin to haul my legs over his. I straddled his thick thighs, and he shifted his weight beneath me to push me farther up his body. My dampening pussy landed right against the outline of a thick and ready cock.

His large hands gripped my hips and rubbed me against him. The friction lit up every nerve ending in my clit. My gasp of pleasure broke our kiss, and he stilled, pulling away from my lips just long enough to speak.

“Of course I want to keep you, ángel. You are mine.”

My heart stuttered to a halt, relishing the words and fearing them in equal measure. I wanted to be his, this mountain of a man who’d saved my body and my mind, but I wouldn’t be able to be only his.

“What if I can’t just be yours, Madman?” My eyes pricked with tears, and I blinked them away while the weird cocktail of horny endorphins and potential rejection pulled at my emotions.

He stroked a strong thumb over my cheek and cupped my chin. Madman never ogled me like something to consume. He watched me like I was something he cherished, and he looked at me that way now.

“I have always known there would be others, ángel. Nikki loves you deeply. Ambrose loves you both, even from afar. I will share you with them, but no one else. Is that acceptable to you?”

Fuck … was that acceptable? He had this beautiful, brilliant idea for a real future we could share, and he accepted we were all parts of a whole?

I couldn’t speak past the emotion clogging my throat and burning my eyes. Instead, I kissed him ferociously, with my entire heart, my entire body, every ounce of my being.

His control snapped and his lips latched to mine as if we released each other our souls would shatter, and rolled us so I was beneath him, his knees driving into the sand. I mourned the loss of him for the briefest moment while he lifted my sundress and yanked down my panties. His bare, glistening cock jutted from his sweats for only a second before he thrust it into my soaking pussy.

Fuck, he was girthy, the thick head and even thicker cock filling me so deeply until the pinched stretch of pain morphed into excruciating pleasure.

He captured my moan in his savage mouth before pulling back out and driving into me with so much force, I was pushed upward on the sand until my head met the rock of the cliff.

He cradled my skull — still able to protect me when all his baser desires wanted to devour me — and gripped my hip hard with his other hand, pistoning his hips with forceful bursts of power.

This time held none of the careful, sweet control he’d given me in the jungle. His movements were wild, each thrust dipping into my wet heat with more abandon than the last. With his body, he told me how desperate he was for me without the need for words at all.

I took everything he had to give, gripping his muscled ass cheeks with sharp nails and forcing him as deeply as he could go. I ground my clit into his pelvis so hard, electricity shot up and down my spine until every limb, every bone, every blood vessel was begging to snap.

I wasn’t able to come quickly with the medication, but his desire didn’t wane, his pace didn’t change, every movement rough and wanting and determined to pull a scream from my lips. When I was close, my walls fluttered around him in desperate anticipation. He rutted into me with enough friction to force my release and my pussy clamped closed around him, soaking the base of his cock.

Ecstasy flowed into every part of my skin, levitating my spirit outside of my body. As I milked him, he exploded inside of me, each hot jet of cum coating my insides and stamping me with his claim.

I was his. He was mine.

He nuzzled into my neck, his stubble tickling my sensitive skin as we both breathed hard and fast, our heartbeats syncing into a calm rhythm under the shade of the sandstone.

Madman pulled off his shirt and used it to clean my tender skin. When he was done, he set the shirt aside in the sand and leaned down to place a gentle kiss right on my clit.

“I will share you with Clube de Morte,” he began, his eyes flicking up to me from his perch at my pelvis. “But I may not share you with them, ángel. I may be too selfish. Time will tell.”

Shivers swept up my spine at the imagery. I’d wanted to be with them all, but I hadn’t considered what that meant sexually. To be with all three of them? Holy shit.

He didn’t wait for my answer. The heated, no doubt crimson, patches on my cheeks was answer enough. He carefully pulled up my panties and pulled down my dress, then fixed himself into his sweats. Then he lay down beside my languid body and stared up into the sky, interlacing our fingers at our sides.

“Tienes mi corazón.” He spoke the words into the sun, but they were an arrow straight into my chest.

You have my heart.

“Tienes mi corazón,” I repeated, turning my head to place a light kiss on his cheek.

We lay there for hours, falling asleep to the rhythmic susurration of the waves against the sand.

Six weeks since leaving Panama City

I’d forgotten how much I actually hated suits. The expensive tailored wool had been one of my favorites, but now, it hung on my frame, my muscles and weight not completely recovered from our invigorating jungle diet.