Fate Book - Page 65

“There’s a gun on the nightstand,” he clarified. “You’re lucky I didn’t reach for it.”

“Oh. Call me lucky then.” We lay next to each other in silence, several moments passing. “What were you dreaming about?” I finally asked.

“You.”

“Was I staring at your ass again?”

He laughed. “I wish.”

“Then?”

“Your father called,” he said.

“Did he threaten to kill you for touching me?” I asked.

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, he really called.”

“I thought we couldn’t use a cell phone,” I said, wondering about the safe house “no communication with the outside” rule.

“I’m sure he used precautions, but he needed me to know he’d be here in the morning to take you.”

My heart sank. So this was the part where he’d let me go all over again.

“I quit,” he added. “And I told him I love you.”

His words repeated inside my head like an echo that didn’t fade.

“You told him…” I swallowed. “You love me?”

Paolo’s hand reached out and grabbed mine. “Yes. And he told me that if I lay a hand on you, he’d break me in two.”

“But Paolo—”

“I told him he can go fuck himself. He’ll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands.”

Paolo wanted to fight for me. That was all I needed to hear. I rolled on top of him and kissed him with everything I had.

He pushed me back. “Dakota, I think we need to talk—”

“Now or never, Paolo. Decide. Because I’m not going to offer myself again.”

“Now. Yes, now.”

I kissed him hard and untied my robe, letting my naked body cover his. He groaned and rolled on top of me, settling himself between my thighs. I immediately felt his hot, hard flesh pressing against me. Every nerve ending in my body instantly pulsed with sensual waves of heat. It was nothing like before, when I’d simply wanted him to satisfy my lust. This came from another place, deep inside my soul. I wanted to lose myself in him and feel his body connect to mine.

Paolo slid his hand between us and stroked the heated fold between my legs. “God, Dakota. You’re so wet, so hot.” He dipped a finger inside, and I gasped. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.” He plunged another finger inside. “To make you come.”

He covered my mouth with his, and continued stroking me with his hand, but that was not what I wanted.

I gently pushed his hand away. “You don’t need to do that,” I whispered in his ear.

Paolo eagerly took the cue and slid down his boxers. He reached over to the nightstand drawer, and I heard the swift deployment of a condom. I was grateful he’d had the house “stocked,” but even more grateful when he returned his mouth to mine, continuing the frantic kiss. I felt him position his thick head at my entrance, and all I could think of was how incredibly whole I felt. Like a missing piece of my life had slipped into place, giving me the strength to face whatever would come next. I had Paolo. And I loved him.

He pushed inside me with one steady thrust, driving himself deep. I gasped from the pain, but the erotic pulsing tension, the need to release it, kept me from wanting him to stop.

His sensual assault repeated as he pulled out almost completely and thrust into me again, releasing a deep, masculine groan. Each time he did this, I felt a sharp delicious pain push my body to the brink of an explosion. But I didn’t want it to end so quickly. I wanted it to last forever. His smooth olive skin and hard muscles working over my body, his thick muscular arms straining as he lifted his chest away so he could watch himself plunging inside me, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he watched me taking him in, it was better than I could have ever fantasized.

The sinful tension coiled tightly, and I knew my body was but a few hard strokes away from climaxing.

“Paolo,” I panted.

“Come for me, Dakota.” He pushed his hips sharply forward, driving the air from my lungs. He thrust once again. “I want to watch you.” And again. “Come for me.”

His raw, sexual words pushed me over the edge, and the walls seemed to crash down around me. My body exploded with every ounce of the pent-up heat I had for this gorgeous man as he came with one final, deep thrust. He groaned loudly in a sexy, animalistic sort of way that was so purely male it sparked goose bumps.

Several amazingly lucid moments passed where I felt like we were the only two people in existence, our pulses thrumming in unison.

“I love you,” he said in a gravelly voice, and slowly began rocking into me, wringing out every last shudder.

“I love you, too,” I finally whispered back after gaining my breath.

Tags: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Romance
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