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“You want the truth?” he grits, his pace turning indecent, his need crossing all the way into obsessed territory. “I’d spend every goddamn night making a mess out of you if you’d let me.” His grip is bruising. “Make you drip down my fucking chin.”
My orgasm slams into me. Hard, sudden, and all-consuming. It tears a sound from me that sounds half scream, half curse. A noise I didn’t even know I was capable of. And then I’m gone.Zoning the fuck out, lost in the pleasure, and only barely aware that Gage is still fucking me and chasing his own release.
By the time he comes, he’s made a mess out of both of us. Skin, breath, hearts. Nothing untouched. He stays inside me for a long moment, arm tight around me like he’s not ready to let go.
Then, finally, he drops a kiss to my shoulder and pulls out. He disappears into the bathroom and comes back with a warm washcloth to clean me up. Quiet, focused, like I’m something he wants to take care of.
Gage fucks like a savage but handles me like I’m precious gold.
When he brings me in close to go to sleep, I look up and grasp his face, pulling him down for a kiss. It’s unhurried. Soft. No feral in sight.
I find his eyes when I let him go. “I really liked seeing you with your brothers today. And even though I said all that stuff about football, I like that you guys have that. It’s special.”
He watches me silently and I think what I said touched him. His voice is gruff with emotion when he says, “It’s never mattered what shit we’re going through, we’ve always been there for each other.”
Gage has told me about his childhood. About how his parents’ marriage was loveless for a long time, about how his father cheated on his mother, about how that affected the boys. But also, about their journey since then to a place where they love each other. The brothers have always been close. But now, they’re growing close with their parents too. Old wounds are being healed, and I can see just what that means to Gage.
I snuggle into his arms, resting my head on his chest. We’re silent for a long beat, and then I casually say, “I want you to install cameras in my bedroom.”
Gage goes still. And then his arm tightens around me, and he growls, “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Though he can’t see it, I smile.
Then, I glance up at him, finding his dark eyes already focused intently on me. “You know, so you can watch me anytime you want.”
“I fucking caught that,” he says, and I’m 99.999% sure he wants to put me over his knee right now and spank the brat out of me.
I smile sweetly and say very innocently, “I just wanted to make sure.”
I’ve got my head back on his chest and am slowly drifting off to sleep when he kisses the top of my head and mutters, “You’ll be the fucking death of me.”
25
Amelia
There are three kinds of Saturdays.
The first is the mom-frazzled one. Birthday parties, music lessons, school projects, back-to-back logistics with barely enough time to reheat coffee, let alone drink it. You’re basically a PA for a very small, very demanding boss with glitter glue in her hair.
The second is slower, but not easier. Laundry, grocery runs, life admin, maybe some quiet reading time if the universe is feeling generous. You spend it trying to catch up on everything you didn’t do during the week while pretending that counts as rest.
And then there’s the rare third kind.
The unicorn kind.
Where your daughter’s at her dad’s, you’re wearing a red silk dress, and a billionaire with control issues is sending a car to pick you up at nine.
Which, for the record, is practically midnight in mom time. But it’s the first Saturday in weeks that neither of us has our girls, and Gage made it very clear we were going to make the most of it. His words, not mine. Mine were something more like “where are we going?” and “can I wear flats?” To which he replied, “You’ll want heels. And the whole night.”
So, naturally, I’m now standing in my elevator with red silk clinging to my body, my hair falling in soft waves, heels too high, andabsolutely no idea where I’m going.
He’s been evasive. All smooth control and just enough silence to make me nervous.
So I’ve decided to punish him the only way I know how.
With this dress.
A slip dress.