Page 1 of Possessing Her

PROLOGUE

WINNIE

Four Years Earlier

“Mi cariño,” my husband says huskily into my ear. When he came home, he dropped his clothes, left them where they fell, and only had one thing on his mind: Me. The covers disappear from around my body in a quick flash of movement. I’m completely bare, ready for Johnny to slide deep inside me. I’m more than ready. Wetness is coating my greedy center, waiting for him to fill me like only he can.

The cold air from the air conditioner causes my flesh to pebble. Johnny, who runs hot all the time, even in the dead of winter and definitely in the summer, keeps the thermostat at an ungodly number. I’ve become accustomed to him needing the thermostat cranked down; it still doesn’t mean I don’t freeze when I’m not covered up. Earlier in the night, I sent a text, letting him know I was heading to bed. Usually, I’d try my hardest to stay awake, but tonight proved to be too hard, and I only have myself to blame for it. After work, I met up with my sister to try to talk sense into her. When that didn’t work, I came home, ate dinner, took a hot bath, and crawled into bed.

Johnny, a man who isn’t shy in the least about what he wants, told me he wanted me naked or in one of his shirts with nothing on. I knew what that meant. I’ve had more than my fair share of experiences when it comes to my husband’s demands. Tonight isn’t any different, especially after he’s had a rough night at the club he owns, Undercover Lovers.

“Johnny.” His name comes out raspy, drifting from my lips when his cock meets my wetness. He drags his length along my slit, making sure I’m ready.

“Fuck me, Jesus, fuck me.” Johnny’s gaze drops from my eyes to where he’s working me up into a panicked frenzy, one where I’m ready to beg for him to finally take me. I prop myself up on my elbows, wanting to see what he’s seeing. My breath hitches. My husband’s heavy girth is lying on top of me, thick and long, and all mine. It’s no wonder he’s holding himself in place. The look of us alone is enough to send me out of orbit. Johnathan Tomás Gonzales is everything I’m not. He comes from a loving family, he’s successful in anything he touches, his friend group is out-of-this-world amazing, and the best part about him is he doesn’t see me for my shortcomings. Not my lack of family, not the fact that I work a minimum-paid job at an art gallery and love it so much I don’t have so much as an inkling of leaving it to find better. Johnny doesn’t even mind that the only friends I have is someone from my place of employment and through him, his friends, too.

“It never gets old. This feeling, the way you look at me, God, it’s everything.” His hands bracket my hips, holding me tightly. There’s no predicting or him telling me what he’s going to do next. Instead, he slams inside of me with one hard movement until he’s so deep I can feel him hit that spot that has me clenching involuntarily.

“Eres tan bella.”You’re so beautiful. Johnny’s speaks both English and Spanish fluently, a benefit from his parents andgrandparents, who made sure he’d become bilingual during his childhood and well into adulthood. Usually when we’re in bed, away from everyone, tucked away from the world, and he’s looking at me like I’m his whole world is when he murmurs sweet nothings in the language I love so much. He drops down until he’s cocooning us within his thick muscular frame. I feel cherished in the best way possible. I close my eyes, breathing through the sensations, the dragging of his length sliding in and out of me with his deep thrusts.

I never stood a chance when I met Johnny Gonzales.

One chance meeting.

One heated look.

One night spent in his arms.

I never left, and he never let me.

He became my one and only, and I became his.

Johnny wraps his arms beneath my body, pulling me up and turning us until he’s the one on his back and I’m planted on top.

“So full,” I moan, looking down at him.

“Work for it, mi esposa, show me how desperately you want me.” He groans while calling memy wife. I get to work. My hands go behind me, using the tops of his thighs for purchase, while my knees slide upward, lifting me up, and then slide downward helps me get all the way to the root of my husband. It’s taken me years not to be self-conscious of the shape of my body. He sees nothing but beauty, whereas I see a thicker stomach that doesn’t ever go away no matter how many ab crunches I do or how much I watch what I eat. When Johnny’s hands slide to my breasts, cupping them lightly, feeling the heaviness in his palms, I know this is only the tip of the iceberg. My husband is a man who knows how to deliver pleasure with that slight tinge of pain. I believe the term would be dominant, except neither of us is into labels. We are what we are, we like what we like, and fuck what everyone else says.

“Mi esposo,” I follow up his term of endearment.My husband.It incites a fire inside of him. One he brings to the surface without pause. There’s no denying our chemistry. We both burn hot, and we burn fast. I’m trying my hardest to hold back. Patience isn’t a virtue and, try as I might, it’s hard when your husband is the whole damn package and has the whole damn package. Johnny’s fingers wrap around my nipples, pulling at the tight tips. My eyes close of their own accord. I would hate myself for missing out on what he’s doing to me. Except I’m lost in a lustful haze, never wanting to leave. His cock drags in and out of me, helping me since I’m having a hard time keeping up.

“Look at you, naked and writhing, taking my cock so good.” I look down at him, the flaring of his nostrils, the clenching of his jaw. He’s having a hard time not taking over. This man, his energy, his power, and the way he carries himself, he exudes dominance in spades. I’m half tempted to pull away, slither down the length of his body, and take him in my mouth. He must realize where my wayward thoughts are going because I’m once again tossed flat on my back without losing him from inside of me.

“Johnny,” I moan his name into the otherwise quiet penthouse apartment. His mouth attaches to mine, lips and tongue. He gets down to business. There’s no way to describe what he’s doing except working me up until I’m losing all control. I’ll never last with each snap of his hips, especially when he swivels them as he meets my clit. I don’t know what I want more—reach the high only my husband can give me or hold out and keep experiencing each and every movement.

“Fuck,” he grunts while fucking me through my orgasm. My body feels like it’s been on pins and needles, waiting for this moment all freaking day. I may have had a taste of my husband this morning, yet it’s not enough to hold me over another fewhours. I close my eyes, dig my nails into his back, and let him finish all while holding the hell on. “Love how tight you are. All these years later and still, you take my cock like it’s the very first time.” How Johnny is managing to string two words together, let alone a sentence, is beyond me, except he is, and the last thing I should be is surprised.

“I never want it to change.” He nips at my lips at my response, body going taut, and I feel every heavy spurts he plants inside me. A ripple runs through me, kind of like an aftershock, before Johnny’s weight settles on me, and he wraps me up in all that is him.

“Don’t even think about it.” He’s lying on top of me, our combined mess leaking onto the sheets of the bed.

“What?” I mumble with drowsiness. The tips of my fingers are busy gliding up and down his muscular back.

“You’re not answering that call.” My ankles are still locked at the base of his back, and I have no intention of thinking, let alone moving.

“What call?” I ask.

“Your phone is ringing. You know as well as I do who’s on the other end of the line. No good is going to come of it.” He’s still draped over me, holding me as close to his body as he always does once we both get ours, except this time, he might be doing it to keep me from running after my sister yet again.

“Johnny.” I glance at the alarm clock, the time glaring that it’s late. So damn late, and I know who that is. “I have to. I can’t ignore her,” I plead as he pulls back, no longer touching me. I look at his face, at his eyes, and at the way he’s holding himself away from me.

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