Page 99 of Shadows of Steel
She collapses onto the bed, breathless, shaking, completely spent. I roll beside her, pulling her against my chest, running a hand down her back, soothing.
She exhales, lips curving into something smug. “Don’t think this means I’m not still furious with you.”
I smirk, trailing my fingers between her legs, feeling the mess we made. “Good.” My voice is rough, satisfaction curling each syllable. “That means round two will be even better. Angry sex is the best, after all”
She lets out a soft huff, barely mustering the energy to glare at me before her eyes flutter shut for a second too long.
Spent.
Boneless.
Wrecked.
And still so fucking mine.
But we’re not done. I let her sleep, for an hour. Then I wake her up.
I push her to the mattress, rip another orgasm from her, then another, until she’s gasping, shaking beneath me, her nails digging into my back, her voice breaking on my name.
Only when she’s trembling, lips parted, body limp with exhaustion, do I allow her a reprieve.
Her lashes flutter, her breaths coming in slow, sleepy exhales as I sit up, slipping an arm beneath her thighs and another around her back. She barely stirs as I lift her up, her head dropping against my shoulder, completely spent. “Come on, Leonessa,” I murmur, carrying her to the bathroom. “I know you’re tired, but you need to go.”
She makes a small, muffled noise against my skin, too far gone to argue. By the time I lift her again, she’s already slipping back under, moulding against me, trusting me to hold her. I place her back on the bed, limbs heavy and breathing deep.
I slip from the bed, heading to the bathroom. The mirror reflects a man who looks fucking unhinged. Eyes sharp, body still tense, blood pumping hot, like I could devour her all over again.
I soak a cloth under warm water, wring it out, and return to my wife. She barely stirs as I part her thighs, cleaning the mess between them. My gaze stays on her face. The way her lashes flutter. The way her lips part on a content sigh.
She’s so fucking beautiful like this.
Ruined for me.
Mine.
Tossing the cloth aside, I slide back into bed. She barely has the strength to move, but when I wrap my arm around her waist and haul her against my chest, she nuzzles into my neck, inhaling deeply.
A satisfied, sleepy sound escapes her lips. I smirk, my grip tightening, my voice a dark whisper against her temple. “Sleep, Leonessa. But know this…” I press a kiss to her hair, my voice dropping lower, more possessive. “I’m never fucking done with you.”
Chapter 28
Harlow
I wake up sore, a deep, delicious ache nestled between my thighs, a lingering reminder of last night.
Dante.
I shift against the sheets, muscles stretching in protest. My fingers brush over the empty space beside me, cool and untouched. He’s already gone. A pang presses against my chest, unexpected and unwelcome, but I shove it down.
It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.
The scent of fresh coffee reaches me before I even open my eyes fully. I turn my head toward the nightstand, where a silver tray sits, arranged with a cappuccino, a plate of fruit, and a fresh bouquet of calla lilies. A note rests beside it.
I reach for it, unfolding the heavy paper, my eyes skimming over the words, his handwriting bold and sharp.
You should rest. You’ll need it. ;)
A single, arrogant wink is drawn at the end. I shake my head, but my lips curve despite myself. Of course, he would say that. The man is relentless, insatiable, a walking temptation in a three-piece suit, or nothing at all.
