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“Not a lot, just this much.” She parts her thumb and forefinger into an almost indistinguishable gap and giggles. I want her to be happy and carefree. Nothing bad will ever touch her, except me. I push her into the wall, her breath hitching. Her reactions fire up my desire.
“Let me show you how much I fucking missed you today.”
She pants by the time I stop ravishing her lips. She pats her mouth, looking gorgeous with swollen, pink lips, and her eyes glazed over.
After dinner, I throw her over my shoulder and carry her to our bedroom, where I splay her on our bed. Ravishing her pussy, I get lost in fucking her. Her moans ignite a frenzy. I thrust deeper, wanting to bury myself in her pussy and never come out.
She scratches my back, and the passion rages in my blood. We are both sweaty and spent by the time I am finished taking her.
She has her arms on my chest, chin propped on them. “How was your day?”
“Busy.”
“Is there more?”
“What gave it away?” I chuckle, more at ease now that she’s in my arms, where no one can take her away. “Was I too rough?”
“I thought you were on a mission to discover another hymen.”
My lips twitch. If someone can alleviate this onslaught of unease in me, it’s her.
Nothing and no one else.
***
I watch her eating her breakfast and want to trust her, but a nagging feeling persists.
“Let’s go to my office,” I say and she follows me with her stare, knowing something is wrong. I feel exposed, raw, and on edge.
I dial Hayden, pressing my phone to my ear. If he thinks he has all the power, I will prove to him how wrong he is. I just need to bide my time.
“Kieran.”
I draw the silence out before I answer back. “Hayden.”
“I received your invitation. I am looking forward to it.”
His eagerness doesn’t sit well with me.
“Is my money circulating?”
“You’re getting richer every day.”
“Good to hear.”
I hang up and lay the pictures of him on the table. Aurora peeks inside, and I hope she passes this test. I don’t know what I will do if she lies to me.
“What are you doing?”
“Researching a client.”
She approaches me, and my gaze never falters from her.
Her eyes move from picture to picture. They widen, betraying the recognition. She purses her lips and swallows. I urge her with my mind to tell me it’s him. She doesn’t, butchering something inside of me.
“Why do you have pictures of your clients?” she asks, her voice above a whisper.
“Making sure they won’t try to get to me, or worse, steal something of mine.”
