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So does she.
A growl rips from my throat as I bring a hand to her neck and bring her up with me into an almost sitting position. My cock is nestled deep, her back to my chest, and the sharp breath she lets out at the change in angle brings a smile to my face.
Still not enough.
For a second my eyes shift to the wand not far from us, but jealousy licks at my blood. Toys can be fun when we play together, but not this time. Right now, there’s an overwhelming urgency to imprint my touch into her every pore. Her soul. So I cup her with my other hand, fingers against her clit while pumping in and out.
Almost punishing as I take what will always be mine.
No rabbit or dildo or wand could ever replace what only I can make her feel.
Three deep strokes and she trembles.
Two rough circles over her trembling bundle of nerves and she tenses.
“Come, bebe. Give me what’s mine,” I hiss out, the sound primal and hungry. Her walls tighten at the demand and her back arches. It’s near difficult to move, but I refuse to stop. Instead, I keep a rough pace while rubbing her clit. While watching the tantalizing way her bigger-than-a-handful tits, dusky-pink nipples hard, bounce for me.
“Papi, I’m so—”
I cut her off by tightening my hand on her neck, my lips now at her ear. Nip the shell. “Motherfucking come, love.”
Amberlyn’s mouth opens, but no words come out; she always comes so prettily.
She spasms, pussy so tight I bottom out and let her massage the come from me. And she does. These small gyrations and the feel of her juices coating—bathing my length—rob me of my senses. Everything within me throbs. So painfully sweet.
“Oh God,” she moans, and brings one of her own hands down to cover mine cupping her. Amberlyn presses it harder, moving my fingers over her while pleasure rips me in two, and I empty every drop inside her warmth. We're a mess. Satiated and tired, but I refuse to pull out and slowly lower us down to the bed again and turn us so I’m curled around her much smaller frame.
No words are exchanged.
No declarations.
I know this always makes her sad, but I can’t offer more until I make things right.
Soon. I mouth against the back of her head once I know she’s asleep and pull her closer. Let my touch soothe her for now. Let it calm down my own urge to forget my commitments and drag us to Vegas to tie us together.
My phone beeps then from down her hall and I exhale roughly, closing my eyes for a few minutes. It pings again, Thiago’s tone this time, and it’s a reminder of what happened yesterday and the mess left behind by our livestock.
I should’ve reported to him the moment I stepped back on American soil.
I should’ve told him I’m okay and my crew is safe after visiting my forced-to-snitch friend, but I didn’t. Couldn’t. Not when the only thing that mattered was seeing—being with my sirenita and making sure she’s safe and taken care of. Knowing someone has been watching isn’t the issue, because as Dalian follows her, I have a tail on him. He’d never get close enough to touch, much less savor the sweet scent of sugar cookies that surrounds her.
It’s that someone dared covet what’s mine.
That’s an insult to me as a man.
I’m a killer. Dangerous.
Bound by an oath and my own life plan, but more importantly, I protect what’s mine.
I give myself another few seconds to soak up her sweet scent and warmth before slipping from the bed. Quietly, I fix the sheet and cover her before leaning over and kissing the corner of her mouth. Amberlyn doesn’t stir but sighs, and it pains me to walk away once again.
One day I’ll openly love and cherish this beautiful woman and lay the world at her feet.
I just need time.
“Be patient with me.”
4
