Page 67 of Ruthless Enforcer

"Yes."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He nuzzles my temple. "Good. Because we're doing that again."

"Now?" I ask eagerly.

"Give me ten minutes." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "Maybe five if you keep looking at me like that."

I laugh, breathless and sated, and curl into his side. "Gabriel?"

"Yeah?"

"I meant what I said. I'm not asking for temporary."

His hand stills in my hair. Then he tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Good, because you're mine now, Duchess. And I don't give back what's mine."

56

GABRIEL

Ten minutes? I'm hard again in five.

Clara's curled against my side, her breathing still uneven, her skin flushed and damp. Her hair is a mess—tangled red silk spread across my chest—and there's a bite mark on her shoulder I don't remember leaving.

I remember everything else. I will for the rest of my days.

The way she looked at me when I walked in and found her naked in my bed. The way she didn't flinch when I warned her what touching her would mean. The way she said yes like it was the easiest decision she'd ever made.

The way she felt when I pushed inside her for the first time.

Mine.

I should let her rest. She's a virgin—was a virgin—and I wasn't gentle. I tried—for about thirty seconds. Then she wrapped her legs around my waist and told me she wanted more, and every shred of restraint I've been clinging to since the museum gala went up in flames.

I should give her time to recover. I should get up, take a cold shower, and put some distance between us before I do something even more reckless than marrying her.

Instead, I roll her onto her back and settle between her thighs again.

She laughs softly. "Already?"

"I know." I kiss her throat, her collarbone, the curve of her breast. " I'm ahead of schedule."

"You're insatiable." She laughs again, breathless and happy.

The sound goes straight to my cock. I drag my teeth over her nipple, and she arches into me with a gasp. "You're irresistible, and you're mine. So yes, Duchess. I'm insatiable."

I run my hand down her side and slip it between her thighs. I see the flicker of a wince cross her face, and I hold still. “Are you sore?”

“No.” Her brow furrows. “Maybe a little.”

"Tell me the truth." I drop a kiss on her lips. "If you need to stop, we stop."

She lifts her head to kiss me again. "I don't want to stop."

"That's not what I asked."