Page 74 of Master of Fortune

His rhythm shifted and then slowed, bringing me down from the climb to the peak I strived to reach.

“I’m your master of fortune.”

He changed his tempo again, driving up my need again, this time curving his fingers and ratcheting my arousal higher and higher. And just like before, right when I was about to shatter, he brought me back down.

“Dammit, Simon. Let me come,” I shouted.

“No.”

“Asshole.”

“Never denied it.” He jerked my head back with my hair again, lust burning in his emerald depths. “And I’m the asshole whose cock you claimed as yours.”

He brought his mouth down on mine and began to piston his fingers again. The taste of him, his anger, his desire heightened my need.

He repeated the agony of bringing me to the cusp then letting me fall to nothing, three more times.

“Simon, please,” I begged, unable to take it anymore.

“No.” He added a third finger and then worried my tender clit. “Only my woman deserves to come.”

Barely able to breathe, my mind clouded. “I’m your fucking woman. You know this.”

“Do I? Because that means you would tell me when shit happens. Trust me when shit happens.”

He pulled free of my body and untangled his fingers from my hair, taking a step back.

I turned to face him.

We stared at each other for a few seconds. That’s when I saw the tinge of sadness in his jeweled eyes that rarely gave anything away.

Oh fuck, I’d hurt his feelings.

This man, who the world at large believed possessed no emotions or heart, seemed to feel more than anyone realized.

Me, especially. Maybe this wasn’t one-sided, after all.

“I’m sorry.” I reached up to cup his cheek, but he clasped his fingers around my wrist.

“You will not compromise your safety again.”

“I should have said something to you.”

His other hand gripped my waist and then tugged me to him.

“I never met with him.” I sighed. “But I hear you.”

“Now we need to establish something else.”

“What is that?”

“Whether or not anyone outside of our people knows, we are together.”

A tremor shook my heart.

“Simon, we have an end date.”

A frown marred his face as if he wanted to argue. “End date or not, we are a couple. Is that clear?”

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