Page 104 of The Prodigal

Did I change my mind to make a sex tape with her and blackmail her father with it?

Yeah, no.

I’m seconds from getting down on one knee if this is her idea of make-up sex.

Does she not realize how crazy I am right now with her naked body pressed against the window for all the world to see? Part of me is ready to spread her against the glass and fuck her until she wakes the neighbors with her screams. And then there’s another part of me that wants to toss her naked ass into a suitcase and disappear with her, so no one will ever lay eyes on her again but me.

No one has ever made me feel so possessive.

So unworthy of such a woman.

Of such a gift.

But I guess that’s the irony of it all. Gifts aren’t rewards for good behavior. They are given freely—even to the undeserving. I have no say in the matter of whether I deserve such a gift—such a person. It’s not up to me. It’s up to Eden.

And she chose me.

“Remington,” Eden whispers, her fingers combing through my hair. “Are you okay?”

I’m far from okay.

I fucking love this girl.

“Remington.”

She’s concerned. Hell, she should be. I can barely think about anything but devouring her from the inside out, before hiding her somewhere off the grid.

Inhaling a breath, I shove her body farther up my waist, causing the glass to rattle from the impact.

“Hold on,” I demand, pulling out until the tip of my cock is the only part of me left inside her. Her arms loop around my neck, preparing for what she knows is going to leave her sore tomorrow.

“Who are you?” I grit out between clenched teeth, fighting the urge to push back inside her.

Her lips press against my neck sweetly. “I’m yours. Only yours.”

It’s all I need to hear before I slam into her with a force that is sure to draw noise complaints.

I fuck her through her encouraging whimpers and gasps of pleasure until we’re both shaking, and the window feels as though it’s moving behind us.

“You’re so strong,” I confess. “So brave. So incredibly beautiful.”

Eden groans, and the sound hits my ear like a sweet lullaby as she kisses my face while I pound her against the window. Albrecht will never see this video—he will never even see her face if I can help it.

She is as good as dead to him. He will never have another opportunity to hurt her.

Eden Da Luca ismine.

Finding the phone, I let my gaze settle on the screen, watching as Eden’s head goes back, and her pussy milks me dry with each labored thrust.

This woman loves me.

She sleeps next to me in closets without judgment.

She blackmailed her own father to give me justice.

And how do I repay such love?

I break her heart.

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