“Yes, boss,” I tease as I’m lifted from the desktop and carried to the far side of the room.
He likes it, his cock twitching against my center, and I can’t help but roll my hips against it in an attempt to ease the ache I too feel, before he gently lays me flat on my back.
The rug is placed in this spot for this very reason velvety soft and slick against my skin.
I let my arms fall back, gliding them along the material as I inhale deeply, enjoying the feel of my man on top of me.
He senses it, the heavy sense of contentment warming my blood in this moment, and his touch grows featherlight, skating along my sides to my cheeks.
He holds me there, and I stretch my arm and fingers, clicking on the wall fireplace beside us.
The flickering of the blue flames illuminates half his face, and it reminds me of that night on the balcony when he first claimed me as his.
I was, am, and will forever be.
The corner of his mouth lifts and a sigh leaves me.
“I love you, Ransom Rossi.”
His cock aligns with my entrance, and as he brings his mouth to mine, he pushes inside of me. “I love you, Trouble.”
As his head reaches its fullest point, my back lifts from the carpet, and I pull my legs up and over his hips.
His free palm glides under my ass and he lifts me up, angling me as he likes, my ass an inch from the floor.
“Roll those hips for me, baby,” he rasps, pressing his lips to mine.
I tear at his hair, forcing his mouth to my chest, tortured by his slow movements while savoring every moment.
In the bedroom, when Ransom is in control, I know I’m in for a long, drawn-out, core-deep orgasm. The kind that builds and builds, making you shake and sweat and beg incoherently, and then explodes a fraction of a second later. The kind that takes over your body and locks every inch of it in place.
He’s always liked it slow and deliberate, every twist and curl of his body purposeful and pleasure-seeking.
I love it as it’s allowed me to memorize every ridge of his cock, every arch of every muscle in his body, as he has mine.
It’s when I’m flipped onto my knees, tugged or climbing onto his lap that things get a little wild.
In every aspect of our lives, he’s the half that makes me whole.
My muscles begin to tense and my mind grows hazy.
I moan into the air and he growls against my skin.
“Come for me, my wife,” he whispers, his hips gliding in slow, and slamming as he reaches the hilt, driving himself deeper.
My pussy squeezes around him and he chuckles, his mouth coming up to take mine.
His brows crash as he comes, hard and long and he kisses me, panting in my mouth as I cry into his.
I accept his weight as it falls on me, but he only lets me rest a few moments before he flips us, and I’m dead weight on top of him.
He pushes himself so he’s sitting up and uses his teeth to remove the pasties from my nipples, pulling them into his mouth quickly.
They pucker before him and his cock rises between my legs.
Ransom drops back, closes his eyes, and crosses his arms behind his head.
“Your turn, Trouble.” He smirks. “Work your magic.”
So, I do.
Ten in the morning comes a lot faster than it should and we’re piling into limos on the way to breakfast.
Everyone was sensible enough to bring a change of clothes, but everything else is left over from the night before.
We walk inside and a smile lights up my face as I look around.
Ransom and I made no fancy plans. All we did was book the restaurant we like to walk down to after a long night’s work, but I knew when my sister said Cali convinced her husband she needed two extra days here, and prior to the wedding, they had something up their sleeves.
The entire country beach vibe of the place is hidden behind sheets of white silk and red rose vine garlands. They hang from the ceiling all throughout and in the hallway down the walls, lights entwined within them.
The tails are covered in black cloths and golden place settings are placed perfectly in front of each chair.
I chuckle when my eyes lift to the back wall and a golden J and R hangs in the center... an A and B smaller and off to the side, as a little joke, I’m sure.
And it’s perfect.
Because we wouldn’t be anything without them.
They were just as much a part of our journey as we were, if not the reason for it all.
Arsen and Beretta pushed us, tested us, and refused to allow us to hide from what we were capable of.