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Can’t help the grin that splits my face because, damn, the man knows how to short-circuit my brain. “Persuade away,” I tease, the heat lighting up every nerve ending.
His smile’s all the warning I get before his lips claim mine, fierce and sweet and reckless. And just like that, any semblance of logic I’ve got left flies out the window.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
Tank
“Are you convinced yet?” I devour her mouth until her hands grip me, and her body shudders. “How about now?” I ask softly as I kiss my way down her body, slowly peeling her out of every stitch of her clothing until her plump tits and swollen belly are revealed to me. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.” She’s soft and angelic, like the fancy paintings you see in museums and shit.
“Touch me, please.” Her whispered plea hits my ears, and suddenly it’s like a wild animal takes over.
I take one step closer, bringing our bodies as close as they can get without merging. I drop my mouth to a hard nipple while my hand finds her pussy wet and swollen, already pulsing for my touch. I take my time, teasing her clit, and her opening until she’s trembling and making incoherent sounds.
“Tank,” she moans, bucking her hips against my touch.
I know what she wants, but Sophie needs convincing, and that’s just what I’m going to do.
“You like that?” I fuck her with my fingers in long, slow strokes meant to heighten her arousal. “Right. Here.”
“Oh, Tank. Yes, right there!” Her head falls back against the door with a loud thud, and when I move to her other breast, teasing that hard nipple with my lips and teeth, she shouts my name again. “Tank!”
I smile against her tits, licking and sucking back and forth, keeping up a steady torture that has her wild with desire. My thumb swirls her clit, and she tries to grab my wrist, but the belly is in the way.
“Tank,” she growls.
I smile again and pull back. “Is this what you want, sweet Sophie?” I add another finger to her dripping pussy, and apply more pressure to her clit, pumping and circling fast and hard until she’s flying apart, body trembling against the door.
“Yes, just like that…yes!” She rides my hand until her orgasm is complete, smiling up at me. “Damn, Tank. That was perfect.”
You’re perfect.The words are on the tip of my tongue, and not just those words either. The other words, three far scarier words hover on the edge of my lips.I love you.“Be mine, Soph.”
She lets out a squeak of surprise when I scoop her into my arms before settling against my chest as best she can. “I am yours,” she purrs.
As I lay her across the bed, undress, and snuggle up behind her, I know it’s true. She is mine, without a doubt, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. “Mine,” I growl as I slide into the bed behind her.
“Yours,” she shoots back with a sultry smile.
The ache in her voice is enough to undo me, and I slide into her from behind, one hand gripping her meaty breasts and the other gripping her hip while I fuck her long and slow, until there’s no doubt in the fucking world who she belongs to.
When Sophie comes, it’s like a nuclear bomb exploding, wild and reckless and beautiful to witness. I don’t stop until every last drop of pleasure is wrung from her body, and she’s limp and smiling at me like a woman in love. “Damn, Tank. ”
I smile, and my hips start to move again, faster and deeper until I find my own pleasure, wrenching one last orgasm from her exhausted, beautiful body. “I love you, Sophie.” The words sneak out, but I realize that I mean them. Every word.
She lets out a small huff of laughter. “That’s just the incredible sex talking,” she says, patting my jaw and brushing a soft kiss to my lips.
I can’t deny her words sting, but I’m not giving up, not until she’s mine. Hell, not even then. I’ll never give up. “It’s not the sex,” I tell her. “But don’t worry, you’ll see.”
Sophie yawns in reply, turning and preparing to sleep.
“Sophie, we need to talk.”
She blinks and her big brown eyes are full of questions. “What’s up?”
I cup one side of her face and run my fingers through her hair, smiling down at her because she’s my whole fucking world. “I need you to come to the clubhouse with me. I know you don’t want to, but you trust me, so do this for me. Please.”
“Tank,” she whines.
“I’m serious. I can’t do what I need to do if I’m focused on whether or not you’re safe here alone. I can’t afford to be distracted, wondering if the woman and baby I love are safe. It’s a recipe for me or one of my brothers getting hurt. Or worse.”
