Page 109 of Love Him Like Water

“Fucking missed that sound,” Renzo said, looking at me with fiery eyes.

And, no, we couldn’t fix our problems with sex.

But he was right, too, it was something that we had, something we shared, something we both loved.

So I leaned closer, tentatively sealing my lips to his, feeling those little cracks in my heart fuse back together as his lips responded, as he reached for me, pulling me to straddle him, as his hands started to drift over me like he couldn’t get enough.

“Renzo,” I said as I pulled back, feeling his hardness pressing against me, promising an end to the growing ache inside.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice thick with his own desire.

“I’m allergic to chrysanthemums,” I said, watching as his gorgeous face etched with confusion, then slow understanding, thinking of our wedding, of my lack of a bouquet.

“Noted,” he said, giving me a sweet smile.

“How’d you get this?” I asked, touching the scar that bisected his eyebrow, one of the two scars that took his face from male model handsome to intimidating mob boss.

“Running my mouth when I probably shouldn’t have,” he said, fingers sinking into my ass.

“And this one?” I asked, teasing the one on his lip, wondering if I would have a matching one forever as well.

“You want to talk?” he asked, using my ass to drag me against his hardness, making a low whimper escape me. “Or… not talk?” he asked, eyes blazing.

“Both,” I said, getting a dark chuckle out of him.

“That was my old man,” he told me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, heart aching for a younger version of him. My own father had never put his hands on me. I couldn’t even imagine that kind of cruelty from a person who was meant to love and take care of you.

To that, he shrugged.

“My kids will never know what that’s like,” he said, his words a solemn vow.

“So, you do want kids,” I said, heart leaping.

“Yeah. Like ‘em to have your eyes,” he said. “You want ‘em, right?”

“Yes.” With him? God, yes.

“But think we should just… practice for the time being,” he said as he dragged me against him again.

“Definitely,” I agreed, letting him lift my shirt off of me, leaning back to feel his lips and tongue on my breasts, taking the desire from a simmering want to a burning need.

He inched me out of my pants and panties, then pulled me over him again.

My hands were frantic on his buttons, reaching inside to free him, my mind and body all too aware of how long it had been since I’d felt him inside of me.

“Easy, mouse,” Renzo said as I stroked his thick length. “We don’t have to rush.”

I ignored him, sliding him against me, then down, holding him steady as I started to slide down his length.

“Oh, fuck,” Renzo groaned. “Forget what I said,” he added, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as I gave into the need within, and started to ride him.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his fingers sinking hard into my ass. “Show me how much you missed my cock,” he said, making my belly flip-flop at his words, as it always did. “I fucking missed your sweet, tight pussy,” he went on, making my walls tighten around him as I got closer. “That’s a good girl,” he murmured as my moans got higher, more frantic as I was pushed right toward that edge. “Let me feel you squeeze my cock.”

Then I did, crying out my release against his shoulder.

But he didn’t come with me.

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