Page 52 of Filthy Little Regrets (Princes of NYC #2)

thirty-one

CASSIA

MACE

God, you look delectable in that skirt.

Spying on me while I’m working is weird.

I like to think of it as admiring.

Don’t you have a company to run?

Fuck the company. Meet me at Casa Cipriani in an hour.

Again?

We’ve spent every lunch this week tangled up in a luxurious hotel bed, learning every inch of each other’s bodies and indulging in more cuddling than I ever have.

I miss you.

A grin tugs at my lips.

Unlike you, I have work to do.

Orion’s phone rings almost as soon as the message is sent. My eyes fly to the windows. Mace wouldn’t...would he? Orion’s blinds are closed, and it’s impossible to make out what he’s saying, but a few seconds later, he sticks his head out of his office, eyeing me. “Your husband called.”

Tony snickers from his post on the couch. The bodyguard thinks this whole situation is hilarious. If I wasn’t enjoying myself so much, I’d wonder why he’s so entertained, but for now, I’m simply enjoying the ride.

I bite back a grin and clear my throat. “Um, what did he want?”

Orion rolls his eyes. “I know I told you guys to get your shit together, but I didn’t mean this.”

I glance at the camera, arching an eyebrow at Mace, who I 100% know is watching this interaction. “So...about my paid vacation time?—”

Shaking his head, Orion waves me away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, go ahead, but tell him this is the first and last time he can pull this stunt. I have a business to run.”

Squealing, I save my work, shut down my computer, then beam at Orion. “Thanks, boss! The report is already in your inbox, and I’ll finish up the evidence file tomorrow.” I grab my things in record time, heading for the door while Tony scurries to keep up.

The hotel room door opens before I can even knock. Mace picks me up, and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. He kicks the door closed and carries me to the bed, laying me down and reaching for my pants, always so eager to be inside of me, but I have other plans.

I swat his hands away and push on his chest, slipping out from under him and sinking to my knees beside the bed.

Mace’s nostrils flare as I tie up my hair. “What are you doing?”

A wicked grin tugs at my lips. “Silly husband, you think you’re the only one who gets to have fun?

” I quirk my finger, and he scrambles to sit at the edge of the bed.

Opening his slacks, I grip the tops of his pants and boxers.

“That’s right, baby, didn’t you say you wanted to see my mouth around your cock? ”

“Yes,” he rasps, lifting his hips as I drag the material down his legs. Once freed, his cock, hard and dripping with precum, sways. Light bounces off the silver balls of each piercing.

“Look at how pretty you are.” I spread his legs and draw my palms up his thighs, arching my back so my cleavage comes dangerously close to spilling out of my top.

Wrapping both my hands around his base, I lower my mouth and lightly blow on him, smirking when he fists the comforter.

Fluttering my lashes, I flick my tongue over the glistening tip, tasting how ready he is.

“Cassia,” he says, but I lift my gaze and pin him with a look.

“Who does this cock belong to?”

Mace swallows. Funny enough, so do I.

“You.” His rich baritone strokes down my spine.

“Good boy.” I wrap my lips around him and take him in, bobbing up and down to wet his length, lightly twisting my hands at the base, mindful of his Jacob’s ladder.

“That feels so good.”

I hum and glance up at him, memorizing his expression before I move my hands to his hip and swallow him, pressing my tongue up, caging him in.

He chokes right around the same time I do, my throat flexing around his length.

I breathe through my nose, relaxing my body and finding a rhythm.

A strand of hair falls across my forehead, but before I can move it, Mace gathers my strands and holds them up.

Our eyes collide, his wide with awe and mine narrowed in determination.

Humming, I ease up his length, wrapping one hand back around his base and pumping his dick in time with my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks, tightening and pulsing.

His hips jerk up. “Fuuuuck.”

Mmm. I alternate between shallow strokes and full throat swallows, taking him deeper each time he makes a little noise.

“Please, baby, fuck, please.”

There it is. My power. I cup his balls, massaging and tugging, gliding up and down until a full-body whimper wrenches from his lungs and he thrusts up, cock and cum hitting my throat.

Eyes watering from the pressure, I swallow, drinking up every last drop until he collapses back onto the bed, throwing his arm over his face with a winded breath.

I swirl my tongue over his length, making sure he’s clean, and then kiss the tip, crawling up the bed and straddling his hips. His king is almost cornered.

The adoration in his gaze steals my breath. “Fuck, I love you.”

The words shock through me. My mouth parts in surprise, and my mind reels. Do I love him? The right thing to do would be to say it back, but I haven’t let myself think about my feelings.

“You don’t have to say it back.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “You can say it whenever you’re ready.”

My chest clenches, and I lean down, kissing him in apology. I don’t know why the moment feels so monumental, but his confession nestles into my soul. Breaking away, I sit back and search his face. Those three little words set me off-kilter .

“Do you want to watch something?” he asks, giving me an out, a way to escape the things I’m not yet ready to face.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He moves so fast, I don’t even have time to screech. His arms wrap around me and we tip, falling onto the mattress. Trapping me as the little spoon, he pins me against his body, his hard torso pressed against my back and his mouth resting near my ear.

“Don’t think one life-altering blow job means you won,” he purrs.

Relief loosens my chest as he takes us back to familiar territory, helping me find my footing once more. “I think the game is done.”

“Not even close. Grab the remote.”

My eyebrows slam together. “You want to watch a show now ?”

He nips my ear. “Don’t argue, I need a minute.”

“Here, I thought you were a superhero.”

“Nah, baby, I’m a villain, but even villains need a minute.”

I release a dramatic sigh and grab the remote. “God, my life is so hard.” The TV blinks to life, playing the opening credits of some rom-com.

“Dick jokes?”

“Shh, the movie is starting.”

He nuzzles my neck. “God, you smell good.”

Humming, I press into his hold and melt. Maybe I will get that happily ever, after all.

The next few days are blissful, and as I get ready this morning, staring at the grin that won’t quit, I realize I’ve become the woman who’s so in love, it makes other people sick.

“You’re a disgusting, lovesick bitch,” I tell myself with a dumb smile, sliding the mascara wand into the tube and setting it aside.

I grab my bottle of daily medicine and take it, because I know what happens when I stop taking it, and I’m trying to be a good patient since my video visit with my therapist is set for later today.

A lot has happened since our last meeting a few months ago. I’m a little worried about having to explain the marriage...moving in with Mace...and I don’t want to go back to monthly or even weekly sessions. Getting to quarterly check-ins was a major accomplishment.

What’s one more lie?

My stomach churns at the thought. I really don’t like lying.

I’ve already been thinking about how to tell Mace the truth, bracing for his anger and for our relationship to suffer, but it’s the right thing to do.

I have to be honest before things between us get any deeper.

Nerves fluttering, I grab my phone and send him a text.

Can you meet me at Orion’s this morning? It’s important.

MACE

Is Orion working today?

Yes. You’ll have to behave.

Fine. I’ll bring the coffee.

Breathing deep, I smooth my hair and nod at myself.

It’ll be fine. Mace will probably be mad, and he’s allowed to be, but with what the FBI was holding against me, maybe he’ll understand.

His dad was using his sisters as leverage to get him into the fighting ring. The FBI using Rose is no different.

At least, that’s what I tell myself on the ride into the city.

Tony is especially chatty today. Apparently he had a date, but I only half-heartedly listen, too worried about the possibility of Mace kicking me to the curb. My pulse spikes. Pinching my eyes shut, I shake my head. That’s not going to happen.

He can help me bring his dad down, and that will spare his sisters being used as bargaining chips. We’ll put this behind us. Everything will be fine.

“This fuckin’ guy,” Tony mutters, honking at the car in front of us. We’re a block from the office, stuck at an intersection, and there’s a line of traffic going the other direction at a standstill. Traffic downtown sucks. This is why people walk or take the subway.

“I think I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

Tony shakes his head. “Mace says you stay with me.”

“It’s a block, Tony. The building is right there.” I point to it. “I can manage that alone.”

“Get the fuck outta the way!” Tony mutters, honking again, but it’s a gridlock. These things can take forever to clear because people are stupid. The longer I sit in this car, the more I’ll worry and the worse the panic will get. I need distraction. Fresh air. Space to breathe.

I grab the handle and jump out before he can grab me.

“Shit. Cassia!”