Page 73 of Twisted Fate

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Damian

Alina watched me kill a man. I gave her time to come to terms with that.

But maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have left the yacht with her, stuck to her side like a burr, forced her to accept me and my world.

Or maybe I should have stayed away longer, let her miss me, ache for me, let her yearning guide her decision.

She rests her palm on my cheek, those gorgeous blue eyes locked on mine.

I want to demand an answer, demand she reveal all her thoughts and dreams, demand that she give every part of herself to me.

Instead, I catch her hand and press a kiss to the center of her palm. All the demands in the world will not make her stay. This, she must choose. Because the choice is not just me, but my way of life, my world, my family. And once she’s in, she’s in for life. No way out. No going back.

If I were anything but a selfish bastard, I would let her go. Hell, I’d fucking chase her off.

But I am a selfish bastard. So I will make her want me, need me, ache for me. I will make her trust me. Make her love me. I want every part of her—her love, her loyalty, her body, her soul.

Because, yeah, I fucking love Alina Madsen. I’m so fucking in love with her I don’t know which way is up.

I loop my arm around her waist and pull her against me, her body pliant, willing. I lower my head and kiss her, taking my time, tasting her, teasing her.

I don’t let myself consider that this might be the last time I kiss her, touch her, take her. I only let myself think of this moment.

I lick her lips, push my tongue into her mouth then withdraw. A lure. A dance.

With a soft moan, she comes up on her toes, molds herself against me, her breasts pressed to my chest. Her fingers lace through my hair, pulling me closer. Without breaking the kiss, I shrug out of my suit jacket, letting it lie where it falls. She’s panting as I walk her backward to the bedroom and tumble us both onto the bed, catching my weight on my forearms.

She reaches for the buttons of my shirt, undoing them one by one, pressing soft kisses to my skin, her lips warm. Then she reaches for my belt, sliding it free.

I flip us both so she is atop me, and slowly strip her clothes from her body, taking my time, sliding each garment off as I kiss and lick and nip her perfect pale skin. Her naked breasts tempt me and I shift us until I sit at the edge of the bed with Alina straddling me. Then I take her pebbled nipple in my mouth, licking and sucking.

She exhales a shuddering breath. I slide my fingers between her legs and stroke her wet pussy, her clit, making her sigh and pump her hips. Sweat slicks her skin. Her soft, panting breaths reach inside me and twists my lust to a razor’s edge.

Reaching down between her legs, she layers her fingers next to mine, gathering her own moisture. Then she closes her slick hand around my cock, stroking, pumping, and finally, positioning me at her opening.

She sinks down on me slowly, her eyes locked on mine, her pupils dark and dilated.

“Fuck,” I say on a rough exhale. I want to roll atop her and sink deep and fuck her till she screams. My muscles twitch with the effort of holding back, of letting her play, letting her take control.

She puts both hands on my shoulders, pushing me down so I lie on my back, and she rides me, head thrown back. Her tempo picks up. I curl my fingers into her thighs, my hips pumping of their own accord.

“Your pussy is so tight, so fucking perfect,” I say.

I feel my orgasm building in my balls, my thighs, the small of my back.

“Oh, God, Damian.” She moans, gasps, her hips moving in time with mine, our bodies poised on the edge of a cliff.

She screams as she comes and collapses atop me as my I tumble into my own release, my whole body shuddering with pleasure.

I gather her against me, my chin resting on the top of her head as I pull the bedsheets over us.

There are words that hover at the tip of my tongue. Words that will bind her to me. I know they will. And so, I don’t say them aloud. It goes against my nature, my inclination, my wants and desires, but I will wait for her to choose.

Fuck me, but I love her enough to let her choose.

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