“I must have learned it from you,” I whisper, moaning in approval when he cups my boobs, something else he's obsessed with now that they're growing.
His hot breath fans across my neck when he chuckles. “Then I've taught you well.”
He’s teasing me, but what he says is true. He’s taught me everything about my body, what makes me feel good, how to make him feel good. This past year has been like a dream come true. The two of us, building something together. Something special, something that’s only ours. The rest of the world exists outside these walls.
Here, now? It’s the two of us.
His skillful fingers find my clit and begin to work it in time with his deep strokes. “That's nice,” I whisper, moving against him, working with him. “Fuck me hard. Please. I need it.”
“Remind me to keep you pregnant,” he growls before driving himself harder, deeper, until the bed rocks rhythmically and I have to press my face to the pillow to keep the rest of the house from hearing me scream.
“That's right,” he growls in my ear. “Show me how much you love it, baby. Scream for me. Soak my cock with your cum.”
“Oh… Dane, yes… yeah, just like that… I’m… I’m coming!” And then I'm lost to sensation, to every blissful ripple that moves through me while he follows right behind. Soon a rush of heat fills my core and he sighs, wrapping his arms around me and panting against my neck.
“Sometimes it’s even better when it’s quick like that,” I point out.
“Sometimes there’s no taking it slow. Not when I want you so fucking badly.” There’s still a hungry little growl in his voice that makes me erupt in goose bumps. There’s no such thing as getting enough of him.
My heart sinks a little when his phone rings, but it's a necessary evil. According to him, the war with the Irish mafia could be wrapping up. The war I got caught up in back when it first began.
It's been a long year, and he's kept a lot of the specifics from me, but I can sense his anticipation. He wants this to be over, and I wouldn't mind, either.
I won’t miss wondering if he’ll come home whenever he goes out for a meeting. I can’t wait to raise our child without worrying what O’Grady and his family will do to destroy our happiness.
“What did he say about the terms?” I know right away it's Frank on the other end of the call, and I sit up with my heart in my throat. “Is he willing to play ball?”
I can hear Frank on the other end, just barely, and I lean in to catch more of what he's saying. “He’s willing to accept the terms with one caveat.”
Our eyes meet, and I see the irritation mixing with concern in Dane’s. “What would that be?”
“Instead of financial settlement,” he says, his voice heavy, “he wants another method of payment, and I don’t think we can go through with this.”
“What is it?” Dane demands. “Whatever it is, it’s worth it.”
After a long pause, Frank answers him. “Fiona. He wants my daughter.”
