Page 88 of Desperate Actions

Because she belongs here. With me.

And I plan to keep her. Forever.

But until she puts her mark on this house, on me, on everything we share, I won’t be able to fucking breathe.

She turns back to me, her expression soft, hesitant, beautiful, and my chest feels too tight, too full, too fucking much.

“You like it, Pixie?” I ask, my voice gruff with restraint.

And I know it’s rash, desperate of me to ask, but I can’t keep it in any longer.

A slow smile spreads across her lips, her green eyes shimmering with something I can’t quite name yet—but I want to.

She nods.

“Yeah. I like it.”

I don’t know why those simple words hit me so hard, but they do.

Like a goddamn freight train to the chest.

I take a step closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her soft skin.

“Good.”

Then I kiss her and grab her waist, hoisting her up in my arms.

My hands cup her glorious ass, and I walk with her to the staircase, taking them fast because I need to get my wife inside our bedroom.

Need to be buried inside her sweet heat.

Right. Fucking. Now.

Chapter 22-Aella

The house is gorgeous.

Stunning, even.

But every inch of its beauty flies right out of my head the second Sammy kisses me with intent.

But it’s not just a kiss with him. It never is.

A claiming.

A promise of what’s to come.

I moan into his mouth, letting myself fall, sink, drown in the sheer mastery of his lips, the way he dominates the kiss, the way he takes, then gives, then takes again until I am panting, trembling, clutching onto his shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping me standing.

And maybe he is.

Because then, in one swift move, he picks me up off the floor like I weigh nothing at all.

And fuck me, he’s strong.

Like really strong.

The kind of strong that makes my pulse skyrocket, makes liquid heat pool between my thighs, makes me ache, crave, need.

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