Page 37 of Her Fearless Ronin

I let out a broken cry that was more pleasure than pain. I arched my back, my eyes rolling back at the intense pleasure of this new angle and how his piercings enhanced the friction of his length against my walls.

He stayed in me unmoving, letting me accommodate his size as he let his hand trail up my body to rest it on top of mine. He interlaced his fingers with mine, keeping our hands on the wall, and I looked at them. My heart tightened with love for this man; this simple, tender gesture in the midst of our passionate moment meant far more than anything he could have voiced.

I squeezed my walls and moaned at the sensations caused by his pierced length. It felt like it was waking every nerve of my body, making me far more sensitive to every touch.

I squeezed him again, eliciting a hiss from him. In response, he bit down on my neck, the sensation a mix of pleasure and pain, not breaking the skin but leaving behind a mark that would serve as a reminder of this moment.

“Mine.” His voice, rough and possessive, rumbled against my skin, proclaiming his ownership.

In a breathless whisper, I replied, the heat of the moment intensifying my words, “Yours.” I shifted against him, a silent encouragement for him to move.

Jiro started slow and deep but quickly moved to more forceful thrusts that would have made me topple over if it wasn’t for the wall and his bruising grip on my hip.

“Faster,” I whispered breathlessly, closing my eyes, submitting to the sensation of the hot water on my skin, his erotic grunts, his powerful hips, and his imposing cock hitting just the right spot from this new position.

He growled, increasing the speed, taking me over the edge faster than I thought possible. He joined me almost immediately after my orgasm.

A soft chuckle vibrated against my back as he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close against him. “Best shower ever,” he murmured, his voice still carrying a post-passion raspiness.

I nodded, a contented smile tugging at my lips as I leaned into his embrace, my head finding the perfect spot against his shoulder. “I would never have thought I’d end up dirtier in the shower than I was before getting in,” I quipped, a playful glint in my eyes. The absurdity of the situation brought a surge of laughter, and I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of happiness, even in the midst of uncertainty.

Once we were dressed, Jiro and I hailed a taxi to take me back home. The transition from the private cocoon of the hotel room to the outside world felt like crossing a boundary I wasn’t entirely prepared for.

When we stopped in front of my building, he asked the taxi to wait and followed me silently. As we reached my front door, I fidgeted with the strap of my purse, my mind racing with unspoken questions about where we stood now.

Jiro must have sensed my uncertainty, for he gave me a small, reassuring smile, his hand gently cupping my cheek. The warmth of his touch against my skin calmed my nerves. “Call me when you’re free,” he said softly, his words carrying a promise that sent a rush of joy through me. “I’ll take you out for dinner.”

His simple invitation filled me with a surge of happiness. He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine in a chaste kiss that held a world of unspoken emotions. Just as he was about to pull away, he murmured something in Japanese against my lips. I blinked, my heart skipping a beat as I tried to catch his words. “What did you say?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

A tender smile played on his lips, and he met my gaze with a depth of feeling that left me breathless. “You’re everything I want and everything I don’t deserve,” he confessed, his voice filled with awe and longing. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored my own feelings.

I watched him walk back to the waiting taxi, my heart racing with happiness and uncertainty. As he got into the taxi, I found myself silently sending a prayer to whatever higher power might be listening, hoping that fate would allow me to keep my yakuza.

Jiro had been a fool last night, claiming that he was the only yakuza I could ever have. In truth, he was the only yakuza I had ever wanted, the only man I truly desired.

Chapter 12

Jiro

Sitting at the café across from the bar where Valdez’s crew frequented, I tried to enjoy my coffee in peace. However, that tranquility was shattered as Oda slid into the chair across from me with a grin that was nothing short of mischievous.

“Jiro, my friend, in dear need of coffee, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows, jerking his head toward the cup I was holding. “I guess someone didn’t get much sleep last night.”

I shook my head and took a sip of the burned-out coffee that felt like heaven because I would have rather died than admit it, but I was significantly sleep-deprived, and I was not as young as the grinning idiot in front of me.

Oda leaned over the table. “So, how’s life in caveman land?”

I rolled my eyes, not in the mood for his teasing. “Very funny, Oda.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Seriously, dragging Hope out of the club like that? You’ve got that caveman thing down to an art.”

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Can we not talk about that?”

“Ah, come on,” Oda persisted, his grin widening. “It was quite the show. Had the whole place talking.”

I shot him a glare. “You’re impossible.”

Oda laughed heartily, enjoying my discomfort a little too much. “So, how many of the pack of twelve condoms did you manage to use?”

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