Page 67 of Reckless Promises

“Thank you.” She lifts on her toes and kisses me.

Her naked body pressed to mine. The blood of the man who hurt her on both our hands.

“I told you…” I wrap my hands under her thighs, lifting her and carrying her into the shower. “You don’t need to thank me for taking care of my wife.”

Her mouth seals to mine. Soft, sweet lips that part with her gasp as I pull us under the water. It streams down her hair and turns it midnight. A dark path against her moonglow-lit skin.

Pressing her back to the tile wall, she tightens her thighs around me, and I’m not sure how I ever lived without the feel of her pussy pressing against my dick. How I ever felt anything before her tongue grazed my bottom lip.

I hold her against the tile, and she slips her hand between us, gripping my cock.

“Let me thank you anyway, Cillian.” Odette runs her fingers down my shaft before positioning me at her entrance.

And before she can ask me again, I drive forward and thrust myself in.

She’s so tight it edges on painful, but I want her to hurt me until I feel nothing else. I want to watch her pleasure in the blush on her cheeks, and I want to feel it squeeze my cock.

Odette tips her head back against the tile and loses her breath as I drag my lips down her throat. Pumping into her again and again. She’s so slick and gripping my cock so tight—it’s heaven.

She’s the only good I’ve ever felt.

Peace, as if a man like me deserves it.

I tilt my hips and hit her deep. Her nails dig into my shoulders, and she lets out a strangled scream.

“Does that feel good?” I ask, doing it again.

“Yes.” It chokes out of her between my thrusts. “Yes.”

I tip my forehead to hers and hit that spot over and over as I watch her lose sense of place and time. Her expression is art when she’s coming, and I need to see it in every way possible.

In our bed.

Against the wall.

With water streaming down her face.

I need her to see that I can make her feel good when I’ve been bred and trained to only inflict pain. I need her to know my hands can bring her pleasure no matter how much blood they’ve spilled. I need her to feel the parts of my soul I wasn’t sure were left until she trusted me with her own.

“Yes,” she screams out again as her pussy grips me tight.

Her heels dig into the back of my thighs, and she starts shaking.

“Come on my cock, wife.” I lean in and steal a kiss. “Comefor me.”

I thrust again, and she clings to me. Her nails digging in and her breath stuttering from her lips. A scream and a gasp all in one as she squeezes my cock so tight, I fill her with my cum.

I slowly pull in and out, feeling the slickness of us coming together.

She’s mine.

And when her eyes flutter open, and she looks up at me with water streaming down her face, she sees me.

25

Odette

Bridgeport is fresh airin my lungs when I’ve spent my life cooped up in a cage.

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