She thrusts back onto my cock, staring back at me with fierce passion in her eyes. I tug on her hair, bringing her neck to my lips, biting down hard enough that she’ll need to cover that up to go to work tomorrow.
Or not. I want everyone in the world to know she’s mine.
And soon they will.
She’s strong. She’s fierce. She’s independent. The kind of woman you can’t squeeze too hard or she’ll disappear like grains of sand through your fingers, and yet she lets me dig my fingers into her neck, goads me on, begs me not to stop.
Her pleads of “more,” are like music to my ears. I thrust into her as hard as I can, feeling her pussy erupt again, squeezing and clenching down around my dick like a vice grip and I lose it, filling her insides with everything I have.
I slowly pull out, untying her wrists, and rolling her over on her back so I can have a good look at her. Her hair is out of place, her makeup running down her face, her skin flushed bright red… she’s the picture of perfection.
I trace my fingers over her shivering flesh, relishing every single goosebump that pops to the surface. I could do this all night long and be the most satisfied man on the planet.
“I’m sorry I left you alone so long,” I say. “There were some things I needed to handle.”
She rolls over on top of me, straddling my body, cupping my face in her hands.
“I’m not thrilled, but I understand. It’s not like we planned any of this.”
“Oh, Mia, I’ve been planning this my whole life.”
“In the back of my mind, I always knew this was all I ever wanted,” she muses, kissing me on the forehead. “Every time things got rough, all I had to do was think about the way you always made me feel, and I knew I could through another day. Even if I was never going to see you again, I always had you inside me.”
It breaks my heart knowing what she went through with Bartek, which is why I made sure she’ll never have to worry about him again. She looks so calm and serene right now, though, I’m not going to do anything to disturb this first moment of quiet we’ve finally got with each other.
I’ll save it for tomorrow.
Tonight I just want her curled up next to me, in my arms. Tonight and every night from now on.
15
Mia:
“Come straight home from work tonight?” he asks. He sits at the kitchen table with the newspaper in his hand, casually sipping a cup of coffee. He looks so fucking sexy in the gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips, exposing that perfect V, and I try not to let myself get lost in his abs. It’d be so easy to call up Jakub and tell him I’m sick, but that’s not the kind of employee I’m trying to be. Act two of my life is going to be learning how to stand on my own two feet, and Serafin isn’t responsible for cleaning up my messes.
“Will you be here?” I ask, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the table. His hand reaches up my bare thigh, and I feel my entire body blushing. Last night was dirty and mind blowing, but it only made me fall harder for him than I thought was possible. Never once did he make me feel like he was using me for sex. Never once did I feel anything less than loved.
I like the way he touches me. I like the way he wants me, even though he knows I have to go to work. I like the way he makes sure I’ll think about only him all day.
“I need to show you something,” he says, standing up from his chair. I cock my head and admire his massive boner poking out from his sweatpants, tracing it with my fingers, and he shakes his head and laughs. “Not that. Not now anyway.”
He takes me by the hand and walks me through the dining room, into a sort of sunroom attached to the back of the house. The windows sprawl from the floor to the ceiling, and there are potted plants everywhere. It smells like the earth and dirt, and the sun warms my body. I gasp when I see the
“How did you get these?” I ask. I rush over to my paintings, dropping to my knees as I begin flipping through them all, a wave of excitement flowing through me. These paintings are my babies, my life’s work, my ticket to freedom, both in their creation, and their ability to pay my bills. I try not to cry as I run my fingers over each and every one of them.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” he says, shooting me a wink. “But I promise, nobody’s going to come and take them from you. They’re yours to do with whatever you please.”
I don’t know exactly how he ended up with these in his possession, but my stomach starts to flip when I notice the bloody fingerprint on the back of one of them. I try and tell myself it was probably just a scrape from one of the nails in the back. I’m not letting assumptions taint my bliss. Everyone knows Serafin is a dangerous man. He doesn’t have to resort to violence to get what he wants.
The thought of him confronting Bartek makes me sick to my stomach. I can’t hardly imagine he just let Serafin walk into the garage and take these without even putting up a fight, but maybe he’s over it. Maybe he’s moved on. I know I sure have.
“I got your easel and some of your equipment, too,” he says, motioning to the
