“Yes.”
“Then are you saying you don’t want me to work my way into you?” He slid in a portion of the way and then out, teasing me.
I dug my heels into his thighs, trying to urge him forward. “Yes, dammit.”
“Then I guess there is only one thing to say.”
I stared up into his emerald irises. “What is that?”
“You belong to me now, Goddess.”
He slammed to the hilt.
“Oh, fuck,” I cried out, back bowing.
This was nothing like having a dildo, at all. The sensation, the fullness, the warmth, the throbbing.
“Are you okay?” Simon gripped my jaw, forcing me to look at him.
“God, yes.”
My response must have amused him because he shook his head. “Better than your toys?”
“The verdict is still out.”
“Then let’s make it so the jury comes back in my favor.”
He sealed his lips over mine and set a rhythm meant to drive me insane. Just at the moment when I thought I would beg him to let me come, he rolled his hips in this perfect way, and I exploded around his cock, quivering and clenching.
“That’s it. Show me how much you like it,” he crooned into my ear. “Fuck. You’re squeezing me so tight. Shit. I can’t hold out any longer.”
His fingers threaded in my hair in an almost brutal grip as his other hand grabbed a hold of my thigh, pulling it firm against his waist. His pace changed, growing harder and faster, almost as if something snapped inside him.
And for some reason, this loss of control and the intensity of his eyes as he stared down at me had my waning orgasm climbing again.
When I felt the sharp graze of his teeth on my neck, I cried out, “Simon, yes, please. God, I need more.”
I arched and scored my nails across his shoulders, desperate for this insanity of what he was doing to my body.
He slid his fingers between our bodies to my clitoral nub, squeezing it between his knuckles. The pleasure-filled pain shot me into another wave of ecstasy and forced Simon into his own release.
The last thing I remembered hearing before I lost consciousness was, “What have I gotten into? You aren’t supposed to like things the way I do.”
11
Simon
“Any word on the shipment?”I asked Kasen as I took the final steps from my plane onto the tarmac for private jets at JFK.
I buttoned my coat in an attempt to ward off the blistering late-January weather, walking in the direction of my waiting car.
“It’s exactly where you expected our uncle and idiot cousin to hide it. I can’t believe they thought we wouldn’t look into the missing cargo.”
“Leave it there. Let them think I don’t know. Mykos is using his men to keep an eye on them by offering to assist in ‘protection.’” I air-quoted.
“Mykos senior seems to want Albert’s head on a silver platter.”
“From what I’ve learned, it has to do with some personal insult from years past. Whatever the details, I’m not questioning it. We have a mutual interest in making sure Albert and Hal never gain any power. Ever.”