Page 27 of One Last Time

He turned away from the sink at the same time she moved toward him. His arms caught her easier, wrapping tightly around her back and shoulders while hers tightened at his middle. She inhaled his scent, listened to the steady beat of his heart, and waited as they synced in stillness and breaths.

All was good again.

Right again.

“Do you remember,” he asked with his lips pressed against the top of her head, “when you asked me how I do this—be that man, and this one, too? You asked me why, how … I didn’t have an answer. I wanted to think about it.”

“Of course,” she whispered.

Andino’s arms tightened in just the right way around her. “I’ll never be anybody else—this is me until the day I die. And somehow, despite being who I am, I managed to find a woman that loves me, who has given me three children—with my next on the way—a home, and a life. I intend to keep these things, they’re mine, and that means protecting it by whatever means necessary. So, I am that man because being him lets me do what I need to.”

Haven said nothing.

She couldn’t.

Andino didn’t seem to mind when he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and murmured, “You do the same thing—just in different ways. I know sometimes you think you’re misplaced beside me, but no one is a better fit to stand there. I promise.”

Forever his queen.

Or so he liked to say.

“I’ll do this forever,” he told her.

Haven tipped her head back to look up and meet his gaze. “Me, too.”

He smiled.

So did she.

It’s why she wasn’t at all surprised when his next kiss that came down upon her lips quickly went from sensual and sweet to something far more wicked and hot. If they were going to hell for everything they had done and what they were, then they might as well go together.

It only seemed fair.

Andino reminded Haven of every reason why and how he loved her when he lifted her to the bathroom counter, pulled the satiny sleep shorts down her legs to discard them on the floor, and fucked her against the large mirror of their vanity.

He was rough.

His words, dark.

Selfish.

He took so much from her.

Every single time.

She loved to give it to him, though.

Here they were, close to a decade into their marriage, and he still fucked her the same way he always had. Wildly. Like his soul was fighting to become one with hers. With an undercurrent of his ownership stamped in every kiss, touch, and stroke of his cock that filled her.

Only he could do that to her.

Surrounded by their privilege, with his hands pinning her under his weight and love, she found that place where only Andino could take her to. Where the world didn’t feel like the outside looking in, and nothing could ever touch them.

She loved him the most for that.

Always would.

FIFTEEN