Page 114 of Bastard
“The kids—”
“Down by the lake with Mustafa.”
“Again?”
“Again.” He wraps a hand in my hair and angles my head back. “Every time I think I can’t possibly want to fuck you again, you go and blow my mind.” He nips at my earlobe. “That. Was. Sexy. As. Fuck.”
“¿Tecomplací?”
“You didn’t need to knock him on his ass to please me. But I did enjoy it.”
With no further discussion, he kisses my neck and takes me hard, until we’re both wild with need.
“I love you, Luciana,” he grinds out, as we climax in unison.
“I love you, Hayden.”
And I swear, in that moment, off in the distance, I hear a magpie singing. A song with a turbulent beginning, a melancholic middle and a heart-achingly sweet yet passion-filled crescendo of an end. A beautiful song, about us.
THE END
