Page 106 of Dangerous Vows

Our eyes meet and she sees me—a man who’s dropped his guard and longs to possess her.

I drop my coat, pull my gun out of its holder, and set it on the counter as I approach her. She’s standing in the floor-to-ceiling windows, the setting sun contrasting with her dark hair.

She’s a Goddess—and she’s mine.

I approach her in a few long strides and cup her face, turning her so that we’re eye-to-eye.

Her lips tremble, unsure of my intentions.

I crash my lips to hers, and savagely kiss her lips, sucking and pulling. My cock is swollen with need.

I think she’s immune to me, but her hand grabs my shirt, and her lips press into mine—I’m home.

My hand moves to her lengthy hair, pressing her into me.

“You are mine and I’m fucking that pretty little mouth,” I say as I scoop her into my arms.

She’s light in my arms. I gently place her feet on the ground and peel her dress off. She drops her bra and I’m excited as fuck to discover she’s not even wearing panties.

I shuck my clothes and stand before her with an engorged cock. She kneels and parts her crimson lips. She takes me into her mouth and I moan. She strokes my shaft and bobs her head. But I don’t want to come like this.

I pull out and quickly lift her, depositing her on the mattress.

“No other man will have you. You’re mine.”

My words are a growl against her skin as I slide two fingers into her heat. She arches beneath me, trembling with need. I impale her with my veined cock and her warmth surrounds my cock and I moan, “I love you, Amara.”

I pump her hard and fast, our bodies eager to move, pumping eachother until we reach the pinnacle of desire. I roared as we came together, a needed physical and emotional release.

Afterward, I pull her to me and gently run my fingers over her belly, wondering if we’re having a girl or a boy.

Afterward, Amara nuzzles into me, her hand lying possessively over my chest.

“I love you, too, Pietro.”

Her words make it all worth it.

The doubt, the fights, the fury, the fear—every shadow fades.

For tonight, we have a sliver of something rare.

A moment of peace. A taste of normal. A lie we’re both willing to believe.

The retching iswhat wakes me.

Soft at first. Then sharper.

I throw the covers off and head straight for the bathroom, knowing what I’ll find.

And there she is curled over the toilet, her hair falling around her like a curtain. Her bare feet rest on the cold tile. It’s chilly, but I know the sun will be up soon.

I crouch beside her without a word. My hand slides into her hair, gently pulling it back as her body tenses with another wave of nausea.

She hates it when I see her like this. But I don’t care.

This is us—every raw and unglamorous part, but she must know I’m in this with her.

She sinks back against the wall, eyes closed, breathing shallow.

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