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A smile spread across her face, so… unrestricted. Truly carefree.
It turned into a deep O when my cock reached a perfect depth, hitting just the right spot, causing Taya to curl her toes behind my back.
The flexibility this woman, my woman, possessed was a gift I wasn’t about to let go to waste.
Wicked thoughts danced in the back of my mind, each one cataloged for later.
I picked up the pace, moving my hips in a steady rhythm. She matched me with a rotation of her own. We moved in perfect harmony.
When I brought my head closer, she shivered beneath me; the angle hitting a new depth. My tongue traced her neck, then grazed her ear, tugging on the lobe with my teeth.
“I wish Malek could see what it’s really like to own you,” I whispered.
The weight of my words wasn’t lost on her. Her expression darkened, her nails sinking deeper into my skin. Crescent moon-shaped marks formed over the ink, and I hoped they left a memory. It would be the most beautiful scar this body carried.
An extension of her, expanding the mark I already carried on the inside.
There wasn’t a free spot on my skin, but the inside had been empty until she came along.
The black swirled with the red in my blood, the darkness mixing in, and now a new color poured in: blue.
Together, we burned in the cold air of the night, two bodies, one soul. As we neared the edge, I whispered the words she had longed to hear.
“You were never one of them, but you will always be one of us.”
With the last thrust, her walls crumbled, and I followed her through the ruins, desperate to stay close. I gave her everything I had, down to the last drop, and she held it in.
When green met blue, I absorbed the longing, kissed her temple, and sought the familiar touch at the back of her neck.
“Best Christmas gift ever,” she called out, the sound bouncing off the tall trees, and I laughed like the idiot I was.
Somewhere downstairs, a loud thump echoed through the house. The music paused. Five beats of Maxim’s heart against my ear passed before the melody picked back up.
A slight crease formed between his brows. As much as I wanted to keep him to myself, there were people downstairs who needed him. Needed us.
To save him the trouble, I handed him the discarded clothes. Despite not having siblings of my own, I understood the drive, the need. In the madness of it all, I hadn’t considered how they’d react to me dating their brother.
Dating?
I laughed to myself as I browsed the selection of clothes in his walk-in closet. Since when had that word even existed in my vocabulary?
In a strange twist of events, this turned out to be the best day of mylife.
I slipped on a black dress shirt paired with black underwear and styled it just like he would, unbuttoning the top buttons. The only thing missing was a chain around my neck, but I much preferred his hands wrapped around it anyway.
Lost in flashbacks of the amazing sex earlier, I returned to the bedroom just in time to find Maxim’s colossal frame leaning against the doorframe, waiting. He took in my outfit without commenting, though his green eyes gleamed with something darkly possessive.
We faced each other, the same clip playing in our minds, before I jumped up, wrapping my legs around him in a piggyback style.
Voices drifted from the direction of the kitchen. There, gathered around the kitchen island, the rest of the family hung out.
Alisa was the first to spot us. Out of all these gangsters, she was probably the most observant. She shrieked with excitement at the sight, the sound loud enough to alert the rest of the men.
“Yes!” she yelled, surprising me when she ran straight to Enzo, her hand outstretched. He spared her a glance before reaching into his pocket.
Bouncing on her heels, she barely reached the top of his chest, but her attitude made up for the height difference. “Pay up, Italian.” She wiggled her fingers.
Her brothers, the poor souls who’d fallen victim to her shenanigans, smirked knowingly. A stack of hundred-dollar bills landed in her hand, her fingers trapping the cash before she stuffed it down her bra.