Page 23 of Sweet Conviction

"Fuck." I groan, flipping her onto her back and driving into her hard. "You want me to ruin you, baby? Want me to fuck you so good that you forget everything but me?"

"Yes!" she cries, clawing at my back. "Ruin me, Dalton. Wreck me."

How the fuck do you resist a plea like that? You don't. You can't.

I pound into her, the bed shaking with the force of my thrusts as I claim her, branding her with my cock. The sounds of sex—of skin on skin and our cries of pleasure—echo around us. But it's not enough. I want everything she has until she's wrecked beneath me, unable to think about anything but me and my cock. Until she eats, sleeps, and breathes me, the same fucking way I already do her.

I bury my face in her neck, biting and sucking, leaving my mark all over her perfect body. "This pussy is mine," I rasp in her ear. "This body is mine. You are mine, Tempest. My wife. Say it."

"I'm your wife," she sobs, trembling beneath me.

I slide my hands down to her ass, spreading her wider. I want to be as deep as I can get, want to feel every inch of her.

"You like that, baby?" I rasp in her ear. "You like feeling your husband stretching you open and making you take every inch of his cock?"

"Yes!" She rocks beneath me, desperately trying to meet every hard thrust. "I love it. I love feeling you inside me, Dalton."

I capture her lips in a filthy kiss, my tongue plundering her mouth as I slide a hand between us, finding her swollen clit. I rub hard circles, making her thrash and wail beneath me. Her pussy flutters and clenches. She's so close. So fucking close.

"That's it, Tempest," I growl. "Squeeze me with this tight little cunt while you come all over me."

"Together," she demands, panting for breath, mindless with pleasure. "Come together."

"Fuck yeah," I breathe, kissing her deep, willing to give her anything, even my fucking heart. I feel it beating, pounding like a drum in my chest—alive and whole for the first time in decades. Beating because of her. Beatingfor her.

Her pussy clamps down on me like a vise, rippling and fluttering as she shatters, screaming my name. It's too much, too good.

I shout her name, slamming into her without rhythm as I explode, pumping her full of my cum. Even then, I can't stop touching her, can't stop kissing her. And I know—I fucking know—that I can't lose her. I can't fuck this up. If I do, it won't just destroy her. It'll destroy me, too.

Because she already has me—every fucking piece of me.

Chapter Six

Tempest

"How are you possibly back already?" I ask, throwing the door open with a smile on my face…only for it to slide off when I see my cousin waiting on the other side instead of Dalton. "Triton."

"Expecting someone else?" he asks, one brow arched as he leans against the wall across the hall.

"Um…" Crap. I should have checked the peephole first. Dalton ran out to get breakfast ten minutes ago. I figured it was him coming back for some reason, not my cousin. I'm not prepared to deal with him yet. I already know how this conversation is going to go, considering that he never wanted me to marry Dalton.

But I guess I don't have a choice now. We're going to have to talk because I'm not going to lie to him. This is my life, my choice. He doesn't have to like it.

I square my shoulders and meet his gaze, steeling myself for the inevitable argument. "Maybe you should come in," I suggest.

His brows climb even higher as he pushes off the wall. "That sounds ominous," he mutters, strolling past me into the room.

His gaze skirts around, his nose wrinkling. "Jesus Christ, Tempest. It stinks in here." He turns to face me, his dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Did you spend all night drinking your sorrows away, baby cousin?"

"No…Dalton was here." I bite my lip when his expression immediately darkens.

"You're fucking kidding me," he growls. "What did that prick want?"

"Um, well…" I flounder, searching for the right words to explain.

His gaze drops to my left hand and his eyes widen. "Oh, my fucking god!" He grabs my hand, staring at the glittering diamond. "You married him?"

"Yes," I whisper, hating how small my voice sounds, as if I did something wrong, something I'm ashamed of doing. I clear my throat and try again. "Yes, I did."

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