Page 111 of Desperate Actions

She shatters, back arching, eyes blown wide, her nails raking down my back as she comes so hard, she sobs my name.

Her pussy clamps down, milking me, and I follow her right over the edge, grinding deep as I spill inside her, filling her to the brim, holding her so fucking tight I might never let go.

The room is silent, save for our panting breaths, the thunder rolling outside, the rain pattering against the windows.

Aella is boneless beneath me, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my back, and I don’t ever want to move.

But I force myself to be gentle, to care for her, pressing soft kisses over her damp skin before sliding out of her slowly, making her whimper.

I grab her discarded towel, clean her up, then pull her into my arms, tucking her against my chest.

“You okay?”

She murmurs something, but I can’t make it out because her face is pressed against my chest.

It’s okay, though, because she is lying with me, holding me, and I know she is okay.

I kiss her head, holding her even tighter.

Chapter 26-Aella

It’s the middle of the night, and I’m lying in bed with my husband—my impossibly sexy, ridiculously powerful, completely unexpected husband—who just literally blew my mind in every conceivable way.

I should be exhausted. Wrung out. A puddle of incoherent bliss.

Instead, I’m wide awake, heart hammering against my ribs, staring at the ceiling like a lunatic because holy fucking hell, Sammy Ramirez just made love to me like a demon.

Like it’s his fucking job to make me come.

No, he hasn’t professed undying love for me. But he basically said I belong to him.

That he wants me.

That he’s been crazy for me this whole time.

I don’t know what to do with that information.

I should have told him how I feel. The words sat on the tip of my tongue, waiting for me to be brave enough to say them.

But then he kissed me, soft at first, then deeper, and before I could even catch my breath, he was inside me again, whispering my name like it was a goddamn prayer.

And now?

Now, I’m wrapped in his arms, staring at the ceiling like an idiot, trying to process the fact that the man I’ve secretly loved for half my life just fucked me stupid.

Is that a thing? I think that’s a thing.

I turn my head, watching as Sammy lies beside me, one arm tucked behind his head, the other curled possessively around my waist, like he knows I might try to run away from the weight of this moment and he refuses to let me.

His face is relaxed, eyes half-lidded, but I know he’s not asleep.

Not yet.

I bite my lip. What we just did was hot. So hot.

I’ve never given a blow job before, but I’m pretty sure I did alright.

Yay me!

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