Page 29

O kay, so…

Having a recording artist send me flowers like he thinks we’re in some kind of twisted love story— along with a demo of his next single, complete with my name in the lyrics —is not as flattering as it sounds.

In fact, it creeps me the hell out.

My skin’s crawling.

My pulse is erratic.

There’s a prickle at the base of my neck that hasn’t gone away since I opened that damn envelope.

And underneath the chill, there’s panic.

What if Balor thinks I wanted this?

What if he thinks I invited the attention?

That I somehow encouraged Rico—El Tigre—to fixate on me?

Oh my God— what if he thinks I’m cheating on him?

The thought makes my stomach turn.

I know how men like Balor work—intense, dominant, protective.

Trust isn’t something they hand out freely.

And we haven’t exactly had time to define us.

There are so many things we haven’t talked about.

So many things he doesn’t know about me.

So I just wait for him to come home to me.

I stand in the hallway, practically pacing a trench in the floor, arms crossed over my chest like that might hold me together.

I’m nervous. Anxious. Terrified.

Not of him— never of him —but of what this might mean.

Because I’m starting to realize my feelings for Balor aren’t just part of this convenient marriage situation.

They’re more. Bigger. Real.

And that’s totally on me.

If I get my heart shattered in the process, well, I can’t blame anyone but myself.

Still, when the front door swings open and he strides in like a storm wrapped in muscle and ink, all thought goes silent.

His shirt’s unbuttoned.

Jacket and tie nowhere in sight.

His sleeves are rolled up, exposing the ink that marks his forearms, coiled strength and secrets in every line.

And his eyes— God, his eyes.

That intense, bi-colored gaze locks on me, and I freeze.

It’s like being seen down to the bone.

No armor. No pretense. Just me—standing here in our home, wondering how I ended up falling so damn hard, so damn fast.

I want to speak. To say something. But the words lodge in my throat.

Because the way he’s looking at me?

It’s not anger.

It’s possession.

It’s hunger.

It’s some kind of fierce, primal claiming that makes my knees weaken and my breath catch.

Need rises inside me, unstoppable. Familiar now, but still terrifying in its intensity.

Never with anyone else.

Never like this.

It’s like he knows it, too. And he can’t resist the pull any more than I can.

One second we’re locked in a staring contest, and the next we’re fused together like nothing could ever break us apart.

He’s kissing me. Carrying me. I feel the table beneath me, solid and cool.

“Mine,” he growls, still kissing me. “You’re mine, Lucy Cruz. And no one— no one —is going to fucking take you from me.”

I tell him the truth then.

“I only want you, Balor. Only you.”

This man has me. Completely. Irrevocably.

The question is, what’s he going to do with me when I finally open my mouth and whisper the one thing I’ve been holding back?

When I tell him the truth, I’ve been scared to face.

I love him .

I am ass over teakettle in love with him.

Should I say it?

Would he even want it?

Or will loving Balor Cruz be the one thing that breaks me for good?

Clothing gets moved, torn maybe, I’m not sure. Heat fills me, need, desire, and it is desperate.

All I know for sure is how much I want him.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Wife, I want you to stop. Just feel. Feel me,” he growls, then he slams his hips to mine, and all coherent thought flies out the window.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmurs, one hand wrapped around my neck as he licks into my mouth and starts to move. “You’re such a good fucking girl for me.”

“Balor,” I whimper, clutching at his shoulders, wrapping my legs around his hips.

He feels so good. So big, stretching me wide, and filling me like no one else ever could.

I feel his other hand slide between us, rubbing my clit, and a gush of moisture floods my pussy.

“You’re going to come for me, Angel.”

Circle, circle, his maddening fingers move with undeniable efficiency.

“I’m gonna stuff you with my cock, play with your sweet clit, and you’re gonna come so hard it’s gonna drip down my balls,” he tells me, and fuck, tremors start to tingle all through my body.

And all the while, his hips never stop.

His big dick just keeps stroking, hitting that secret spot no one else has ever found.

Sounds I don’t even recognize as coming from me echo in the dining room— probably in the entire house .

His fingers move faster, in time with his hips.

It’s too much.

It’s not enough.

My eyes start to roll back, and he tightens his hold on my neck, forcing my gaze to his.

He is so damn hot.

“Now, Wife. You’re gonna come now,” he commands, and fuck me , I do.

I come. Hard. Loud. And— oh my God.

I feel it.

Wet. Hot.

So much liquid.

“Fuck, Angel, did you squirt all over me? Good fucking girl. So fucking good,” he growls and rams into me three more times, spilling his seed.

His cock seems to get even bigger, throbbing inside my body as he fills me with his warmth.

But he doesn’t stop moving. Not yet. Not for a little while still.

Balor just keeps flexing and hugging me to him, his jaw clenched as he wrings out every last drop of pleasure from the two of our bodies.

I think I pass out from coming so hard, and when I open my eyes again, Balor is carrying me into the bathroom that adjoins our bedroom and he’s turning the shower on.

I watch him in the floor to ceiling mirror as he turns on the shower and holds me to him with one big hand under my ass.

He kisses my temple before lowering me to the ground, and I stand on wobbly legs.

Then he strips us both of whatever clothing remains on our bodies, and I step away from him, moving beneath the spray.

I can’t talk. Not yet.

My brain is mush.

Is it possible he actually fucked me stupid?

Honestly, it’s a miracle I haven’t just slid to the floor, completely comatose.

But I manage to get clean, keeping to my side of the enormous shower. And he does the same.

He doesn’t touch me. He just watches me.

For the first time in my life, I feel so fucking seen.

Christ, I love this man so much it scares me.

And I wonder, can he love me back?