Page 68 of Where the Wind Whispers

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Another shift of her hips and his control snapped.

His fingers dug in, likely leaving his marks behind.

His own hips lifted off the couch, driving his cock into her fully and dragging over each and every nerve he could reach until she was whining low and her lungs burned.

She’d hoped he would never treat her as if she was made of glass—that he’d always take what he wanted when she gave it to him because that was how they loved best.

Him and her?

They loved the best when they were hard, rough, and raw.

“Get it,” she heard him say. “Ride me and get it, Violet.”

But between his darker demands, his affection—all that love she knew he felt for her—was spilling out, too.

Love you, love you, love you.

Over and over again.

She’d already been chasing that high with him before he’d said the words.

Kaz was still her addiction.

She intended to feed it.

Especially now.

The sound of Velcro being pulled and pressed into place was like music to Kaz’s ears as he strapped the bulletproof vest into place before grabbing his shirt and yanking that on next. A glance at his watch told him it was nearing four in the morning, a time when most were asleep—a time where he was meant to be asleep in his bed next to his wife—but the second Violet had dozed off next to him, he was up and moving.

There was no longer any time to waste.

It was time to end this once and for all.

It was time to put Alberto Gallucci out of his misery.

It was time for his wife not to have that worry in her eyes any time his name was brought up.

It was just time.

Kaz had prepared for this day—though he couldn’t have known Violet would be back with him when he made his move against her father. He’d thought he would be taking her back by force, but he was almost thankful for the turn of events.

Now, Violet wouldn’t have to see him killing her father.

It was one thing to know—and he was sure Alberto’s death would weigh on her at some point—but it was a different matter altogether when one saw their father’s death up close and personal.

Kaz liked to think that Vasily’s death hadn’t bothered him, but sometimes, thoughts of the man plagued him, and he didn’t want that for Violet.

Walking over to the safe in the wall, he keyed in the combination, twisting and tugging the handle to pop it open, pulling out the pair of Sigs he had tucked away in there. These only came out on special occasions.

Holstering them, he was shutting the safe door when he caught the blurry figure in his peripheral. Violet was barefoot, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she came toward him, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand. Tumbling locks of blond hair swept over her shoulders, and like many hours before, he had the urge to sift his fingers through the strands.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” he said, already reaching to pull her into his embrace.

“I woke up, and you weren’t there,” she said, laying her head against his chest. “I was wondering where you went.”

He touched his lips to the top of her head. “Boss’s job is never over.”