Page 50

Amelia

“Now,” Kabir said, voice low, “tell me what’s bothering you.”

He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, muscles pulling deliciously against the sleeves of his crisp white shirt.

The Vermont hotel suite was massive—gold accents, sleek black decor, a giant bed that had my name all over it. This was supposed to be our little escape after weeks of barely having a night to ourselves—thanks to our little angel, Dahlia.

I unbuckled my watch, tossing it onto the bedside table as I shot him a look.

“Just that you refused Sebastian’s private jet,” I said, arching a brow. “We could be in Verona right now, sipping overpriced wine and pretending to be classy.”

He rolled his eyes and pushed off the door, stalking toward me with that signature slow, smug walk that still did things to my brain.

“I’m not entertaining any offer from Sebastian fucking Blackthorn,” he muttered. “Not happening, Mrs. Gill.”

“It’s been years,” I groaned and shoved my hand in his face, flashing my sapphire ring. “ This makes me yours, you absolute moron!”

He smirked down at me. “I know. That’s why I’m trying not to punch Sebastian every time he breathes near you.”

“You need help,” I deadpanned.

He leaned in, lips grazing my jaw. “You married me. Who really needs help here?”

Goddammit.

I turned, arms crossed, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“We should take advantage of the daylight,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “There’s a trail nearby. The hike’s supposed to be beautiful.”

Kabir didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Just… watched me.

And I felt it. That warm, heavy heat blooming low in my stomach.

His shirt had come untucked somewhere between the doorway and now, and the top buttons were already undone. His chest rose and fell slowly, deliberately. Like he was waiting for me to make the first move.

“Trails can wait,” he said, stepping closer. “My cock can’t.”

I stared, lips parting.

He was smiling now—lazy, smug—but his hands were still at his sides, not touching me. Not until I gave him the word.

His restraint made something inside me clench.

He stepped in, brushing his knuckles gently over my bare arm. “Let me do my job,” he whispered. “Let me worship you. Tell me what to touch.”

I swallowed. Hard.

And moved his hands away from the hem of my sweater, to beneath it, fingers slipping under. “Can I taste you, Heer?” he asked, voice raw. “Please, baby… ask me to beg.”

God, this man.

My hands found the front of his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. “Why are you still wearing this?” I muttered.

He chuckled, pulling it off completely as his gaze held mine. “I’ll remove it. Anything for you, Heer .”

I backed him toward the bed, one step at a time, watching how his breath caught when my fingertips brushed his waistband.

“You like this?” I asked.

“I’ll love anything you give me.”

We fell onto the mattress, a tangle of heat and whispered curses. He was already pulling at my jeans.

“Taste me,” I whispered as he laid every inch of my skin bare.

He froze—just for a second—and then surged up, kissing me like I was the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned, as his fingers surged inside me—eliciting a loud moan from me.

I stared at him, as he slipped his fingers out, and popped both in his mouth.

Well, that was one way to taste me.

I kissed him then. My tongue dove in eagerly as I straddled him.

When his mouth moved to my neck, he murmured, “Tell me where you want me. I’ll stay there as long as you need.”

I grinned, threading my fingers through his hair, grinding on him shamelessly.

“Remove your pants,” I whispered. “And lie down.”

He didn’t need to think twice. Within seconds I had him where I needed.

This man looked just as eager as the day he did when we first started this. When we first let our love consume us.

I climbed up slowly, my pussy nearing his face. Just a few inches away.

He licked his lips, waiting—watching me watch him unravel with need.

I smirked as his eyes darted between my face and my pussy.

“Please… take a seat, baby. I’ll be so good.”

I didn’t. Teasing him, watching him shiver with desire, his fingers brushing on my thigh.

My juices were dripping on his chest, but I didn’t relent.

Not until his hands found my ass in a tight grip.

“Don’t push me, Heeriye ,” his voice was rough, trembling with impatience. “Sit. Down. And suffocate me.”

I smiled in challenge. But before I could shift back enough to tease him again, he slapped my ass.

Hard.

Jolting me forward enough that his greedy tongue found me.

“Oh fuck…” I gasped.

His grip moved from my ass to my thighs, locking me in the position.

I didn’t care anymore and just ground on his face, his eyes glistening in need.

My hands shot to the headboard, balancing myself as my thighs began to shiver.

“Fuck, Kabir… just like that!” I screamed when his rhythm steadied, his tongue destroying me with each flick.

My one hand weaved into his hair, caressing him, encouraging him with my moans. Our eyes locked on each other.

“Yes, baby. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

When his mouth closed over my clit, firm and unrelenting, the pleasure ripped through me like a wave.

I came with a gasp—a sob caught somewhere between release and disbelief.

It was deep. Drawn out. Absolutely consuming.

I let go, my body collapsing against him, settling fully—breathless, overwhelmed.

And just like always, Kabir didn’t stop. He coaxed every last ripple from me, holding me there, steady.

Then came the softest, slowest flicks of his tongue—two delicate strokes that made my whole body shiver. Before I could gather myself, he moved me down, hands firm on my hips.

Lining his hard cock with my pussy.

Spent and still trembling, I leaned down and kissed him—deep, searching.

A moan tore from my throat when he pushed into me, slow but sure, stealing the air from my lungs. My pulse spiked as I began to move on him, letting the rhythm find us again.

“Look at me…” he breathed, voice rough with emotion.

I lifted my gaze—and froze.

The love in his eyes nearly undid me. It was too much, too pure. I could’ve cried.

“Look at me as you use me, Heer . Fuck! You’re so beautiful.”

He bent his knees and pushed up from the mattress, taking over.

Every thrust was powerful, grounded—his arms caging me in like he couldn’t let me slip away.

I buried my face against his neck, letting my lips and tongue trace every raw grunt, every moan that escaped him.

I was close again. So was he.

And neither of us wanted to stop.

His thrusts became frantic. Uneven. Desperate.

“Fuck, Lia… fuck! Give me one more. Please, baby… one more,” he whimpered.

My moans grew louder and in seconds, I was shaking.

I bit his shoulder just as his grip tightened—and I shattered.

A few more thrusts and he stilled, spilling into me with a muffled groan that vibrated against my skin.

We were sweaty. Spent. Deliciously ruined.

I leaned in and kissed him, slow and unhurried. My hair fell around us like a curtain, and his hands came up to cradle my face, gently tucking the strands away.

“I love you, Mr. Kabir Gill,” I whispered against his lips.

He smiled, voice low and rough. “ Heer , there’s an untraceable handgun locked in our basement—if I ever say anything other than ‘I fucking love you too,’ you know what to do.”

I burst out laughing, still breathless. “So dramatic.”

He grinned, pulling me tighter. “Or… shit, maybe I was kidnapped and replaced by a less intelligent clone.”

I smacked his chest. “Moron.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Your moron.”

I melted a little. “Damn right.”