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The mobster huffs and grips my thigh—then pushes inside.
Nine
Nico
There should be angels singing or fireworks going off. Maybe heavenly trumpets blaring. Some kind of external sign, some proof out there in the world that Leah ismine, and she’s this hot and slick, and this really is the best fucking thing I’ve felt in my whole life. I’m not imagining it.
“Jesus.” I’ve barely pushed all the way inside her, nice and slow so it doesn’t hurt, before my ears are ringing. Am I gonna survive this? “God, bella. You feel like a dream.”
I’m already moving over her, thrusting deeper. Grunting like a beast. Pounding her down into the mattress, building up a steady rhythm, the four poster bed frame creaking.
“Jesus,” I say again, and I guess my brain’s fried. Can’t think properly, can’t make smart comments or crack a joke. All I can do is fuck deeper and deeper into my girl, my hips rolling like I’m trying to burrow to the farthest corners inside her. Thank god I already made her come, because I’ve barely felt her around my length and I’m already ruined.
Leah whimpers and moans beneath me, biting her lip and twisting my hair. I duck down and kiss her, and that’s rough too.
She’smine.
“You feel this?” I angle my hips, rubbing a sensitive spot inside her. Leah cries out and yanks on my hair. “This is the only cock you’ll ever need. You’re my girl now, you understand? This is it, baby. This is it for us.”
Ineedher to get this. Need for us to be on the same page.
Can’t live without her. Leah’s the goddamn air in my lungs.
“Do you like your man’s cock?”
She moans, grabbing two fistfuls of my shirt. Squeezing and releasing the fabric, lost to the sensations building between us.
“Leah.”
“Uh-huh.” When she nods, her green eyes are glazed. Ankles hook around my lower back. “I love it. Never want you to stop.”
Well, I might need water breaks, but that sounds good to me. I’m ready to fuck her all night until her moans shake the walls. There’s no other rational thing to do with the angel who’s fallen into my lap; no better way to celebrate that she’s all mine, with nothing Santo or anyone else can do about it.
Tension coils at the base of my spine and I grunt, thrusting harder. My teeth find her shoulder and bite down.
I draw it out as long as I can, my control fraying with every ragged breath; pound my girl into the bed until she’s damp with sweat and flushed all over, her legs twitching where they hug my sides.
Under my shirt, my stitches pull. I don’t care.
“Leah.” I kiss her hard, then groan when she sucks on my tongue. “JesusChrist. Leah.”
The room is hazy. The lamplight blurs. All I can hear is my own thundering heartbeat and our matching short breaths; the creaking bed and the smack of our bodies coming together. I cram my hand between us, only remembering how wrecked it is when my knuckles twinge with pain.
Don’t care. Nothing else matters but this.
Beneath me, Leah gasps and stiffens when I rub her clit.
She stays that way, taut and shuddering, and I ride her through every wave of sensation, her channel clamping down on me and squeezing tight. On and on and on—my girl knows how to take her pleasure. There’s no air in the room by the time she sags back against the bed, and when I bury myself as I deep as I can go, when I finally let go…
Ithurts, it feels so good.
“Leah,” I say, face pressed against her poor, bruised throat, my body wringing itself out until I can barely remember my name. I flood her, take her,claimher.
“Leah.” My whole body is buzzing when I finally collapse to one side.
I press a kiss to her shoulder: my miracle.
My future.
