Keir bites at my lip, hikes up my dress, and brings my body closer to him. We’re in the back of the bookshop. Boxes of books are piled everywhere, and he uses it to his advantage as he lifts me up and slides my ass onto one stack.
“To love you is to consume you. And, baby, you fucking consume me.” He takes my lips and pushes me until my back hits the wall, my ass still on the boxes. He snakes his hand between us and gets to where my panties should be. He pulls away and lifts my dress fully, to look underneath. “You came prepared,” he says, winking, and I can’t help but laugh as I reach forward and undo his trousers, pulling his belt off and freeing his cock. He groans when I wrap my hand around it.
“What are you waiting for? I’m waiting for you to fuck me already, Mr. Rossi.”
His brows shoot up and he pulls me closer, I let go of him as I feel him at my entrance. He moves slightly, gliding against me, and I groan at the pleasure his cock stirs within me.
“Well, Mrs. Rossi, it will be my fucking pleasure.”
Someone bangs on the door, but he ignores them and slides straight into me. Moving slowly, he keeps his eyes on me the whole time. When he’s fully seated, he stills and leans forward, kissing my lips ever so softly. “I could have never dreamed of someone like you. Fuck, I’m glad I kidnapped your ass.”
I chuckle at his words. “Just don’t make a habit of kidnapping other women,” I say.
He moves then, and I groan, biting my lip.
“Only you.”
“I can hear you two fucking in there. Hurry up before I open the door. You have guests, and the people here are fucking annoying.” Lucas groans on the other side of the door and we both laugh at him but don’t answer him either.
I have a feeling no man, or even woman, could rush Keir. He’s got me now, and I doubt he will ever let me go.
And I will never let him go either.
Two peas in a pod as they say.
And what a fucked-up pod it is, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Variety Gossip
* * *
The King of the Underworld
* * *
Is married.
Yes, you read that right.
Our forever bachelor is officially off the market.
What a lucky girl she is.
What a lucky man he is.
That’s me, signing out.