Page 154 of Desperate Actions

When we finally catch our breaths, I slam my mouth to hers, not caring about the mess between us.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Aella.”

“I love you,” she whispers, her small hands leaning on me for support.

I like that. A lot.

And I’m gonna show her how much right after I clean us both up.

“Wrap your legs around my waist.”

She listens and I pull her ruined pants off her body, kicking my shoes and pants off as I cup my palms beneath her ass, and hold her to me.

Then I carry us upstairs to our bathroom and I turn the shower on.

Chapter 34-Aella

“Can I get you anything before I leave, Mrs. Ramirez?” Mrs. Marsden’s voice drifts in from the doorway, crisp and polite as always.

I blink, pulled from the haze of exhaustion and…satisfaction still lingering from last night. Stretching out the ache in my spine, I offer her a small smile, shaking my head.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Marsden. Have a good night!” I say, waving as she nods and quietly shuts the door behind her.

The moment she’s gone, I exhale and sink into my chair, tilting my head back and staring at the ceiling, willing my heartbeat to slow. A delicious ache pulses low in my body, a deep, thrumming soreness that I don’t resent in the slightest.

Because he put it there.

Sammy had been an animal last night.

After he came home, after he eavesdropped on my conversation with Andrea and heard me confess the one thing I hadn’t yet found the courage to say to him—to his face—he completely lost it.

We barely made it past the kitchen.

And God, I’d been just as desperate, as ravenous, as he was. We had collided—no, clashed—with all the pent-up emotion between us, all the time spent resisting, repressing, pretending we weren’t built for each other.

Later, after the hunger had abated, he had carried me upstairs.

Tenderly. Reverently.

We showered together, but even then, he hadn’t let me go. He worshipped me, touching every inch of my body with the kind of slow, aching devotion that had left me trembling.

Like he was memorizing me, claiming me again in a way deeper than just flesh and bone.

I shiver, running my fingers lightly over my collarbone, recalling the heat of his mouth there, the whispered mine against my skin.

I don’t know how long I sit like that, replaying last night, before a deep, familiar voice pulls me from my trance.

“What’s got that look on your face, Pixie?”

I gasp, my eyes flying open, my pulse leaping as I nearly tumble out of my chair.

“Jesus, Sammy, you scared me!” I kinda scold him, pressing a hand to my chest.

His brows furrow, eyes narrowing as he stalks toward me with slow, predatory purpose. My breath catches, my body reacting before my mind can even process the threat and promise in his stare.

“You need to start paying attention to your surroundings,” he murmurs, voice dropping lower as he plants a hand on the back of my chair, caging me in.

The warmth of his other palm cups the nape of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, tilting my head up so I’m forced to look at him.

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