Page 87 of Bastard
“Back just in time, it appears.”
I cock my head at him, curious what he’s thinking. “Did you like my presentation?”
“My man neglected a few major details about your work here.”
I laugh. “He did? Wonder why?”
“You and I both fucking know why.”
My response is a slight shrug of my shoulders followed by a question. “Are you angry?” Because, if he is, it’ll ruin the night. I’m proud of my work and my accomplishments.
“Angry. No.” A brief silence follows. “Do you have any idea how goddamn beautiful you are? You, on that stage, passionate about helping this community. Teary-eyed. Honest in your intentions. Mesmerizing—not a single person could take his eyes off you.”
“And you?” I squeak out, holding back tears.
“Me, least of all. Come here.”
I shift forward, heart pounding.
“Closer.”
One more step.
He’s on his feet with a speed that’s frightening. Hands on my blouse, he rips the material open, then doesn’t stop. My ruined blouse slides off my body and my shorts are tugged down to my ankles. He undresses me like a man possessed.
And I let him.
Mustafa was right about the full moon and those magpies singing. This is happening.
“Enough, Luciana,” he growls. “I’ve got to have you. It’s not going to be sweet or slow and easy. Understand?”
Dios. The hungry look in his eyes. This is the man I held onto all these wasted years. A man respected for his ruthless self-control yet who couldn’t seem to do so around me.
“I want you,” I whisper. “Only you. I’ve never stopped ...”
He leans forward and gently kisses my forehead. “I know, Luciana. I know.”
My bra snaps open and the material joins the rest of my clothing on the floor. I’m left standing in a bright purple thong and combat-style hiking boots.
He falls to his knees before me. I gasp as he grabs my ass and urges me forward. “Part your thighs.”
I adjust my stance.
“You already wet for me?” he asks a question that requires no answer. And he doesn’t wait for one, tugging my thong aside and driving two fingers inside my aching sex. His head dips forward and he tongues my clit. His mouth and fingers finding a perfect rhythm as he plays my body like a musical instrument that takes less than three minutes to reach a crescendo.
I climax so hard my knees buckle. But the hand on my hip holds me steady.
“Unbutton my pants and take me out.”
My hands fumble as I do as he commands, my fingers sliding around his hot, thick girth. Like the rest of him, his cock is beautiful. I laugh, thinking of all the time I joked about ordering boxes of extra-large condoms.
“What’s so funny?” he rasps.
“You’re going to look like an erotic Smurf wrapped in blue latex.”
He grunts. “You won’t be laughing in a moment.”
My smile falters.
