Page 108 of Masked Seduction

I revel in the shift, straddling his hips, my thighs spreading wide as his hands clamp onto my ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Moonlight spills across his bare chest, glinting off the hard lines of muscle, the faint scars etched into his skin, and the inked eagle spread over his heart, fierce and proud.

His cock, thick and hard, presses against my inner thigh, and his eyes, molten with lust, track every move as I guide him to my entrance, my pussy slick and aching for him. I sink down slowly, savoring the stretch as he fills me inch by torturous inch, until he’s buried deep, a low groan tearing from his throat.

The world narrows to two racing heartbeats, two bodies locked together, one shadowed room. Our breaths tangle, hot and ragged, his growls vibrating against my skin as I ride him, my hips rolling in a slow, deliberate grind. My hands brace on his shoulders, nails biting into his flesh, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside me with each thrust.

His fingers grip my hips, guiding my rhythm, his jaw tight as he fights to hold back. His gaze burns into mine, dark and feral, but soon softened by a flicker of devotion that makes my chest ache.

When the release hits, it’s a tidal wave, raw and all-consuming, my walls clenching tight around his cock as pleasure soars through me, my moans echoing throughout the room. He follows, my name on his lips as he spills inside me, hot and pulsing.

We collapse together, laughter spilling between us as we tangle in the sweat-damp sheets, trading slow kisses, our bodies pressed close as our heartbeats slow.

He draws me against his chest, palm protective over my belly. “You make me better,” he murmurs into my hair. “Stronger and gentler all at once.”

“I was thinking the same about you,” I manage through lingering bliss.

A comfortable silence follows. Then Abram shifts, clearing his throat in that the nervous way I’ve learned means he’s plotting something. He slips from the bed and crosses to his dresser. I prop myself on an elbow, admiring the view.

He returns holding a small, midnight-blue box. My heartbeat trips.

“Abram…”

He sits on the edge of the bed, suddenly solemn. “I wanted to do this at Vanya’s party, but toddlers and cake aren’t conducive to speeches.” A wry smile tugs at his mouth. He opens the box. Inside sits a cushion-cut diamond, glittering like captured starlight.

My breath catches.

“I have my empire,” he says quietly, “but none of it matters without you. Marry me, Jenna Ridley. Build a family, a life with me, another empire of our own.”

The answer bursts out before I even register it. “Yes! Of course, yes!” My voice cracks on the last word.

He exhales and slides the ring onto my finger. It settles as if it’s always belonged there. Tears blur the look of the gem until it’s a rainbow.

We kiss—slow, grateful, lovingly. When we part, I rest my forehead against his. “Claire joked I’d snag a billionaire at a sex club,” I whisper, half laughing, half awed. “She might have been onto something.”

Abram chuckles. “That reminds me… how do you feel about revisiting The 13th Floor? Masks, private room, a little nostalgia before pregnancy cravings hijack our nights?”

A wicked thrill sparks. “One condition: you wear the same black mask. Then afterward, we get a hotel room and order every dessert on room service.”

“Done.” He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek. “Anything my fiancée desires.”

Fiancée. The word hums through me like newfound electricity. I glance toward the window where Vegas shimmers. A familiar skyline, but tonight it looks different. Brighter.

He follows my gaze, threading his fingers with mine. “City of sin and secrets,” he says softly. “But it gave me you. I’ll never curse it again.”

“And it gave us Vanya.” I squeeze his hand. “And now…” I rest my palm over the pulse of new life. “There’s so much more coming.”

Thunder rolls faintly beyond the glass, a summer storm sweeping the valley. Inside our penthouse, everything is calm—warm lamplight, joined hands, the distant sound of our daughter’s soft breathing through the baby monitor.

“I promise,” Abram whispers, voice fierce yet tender, “no one will ever threaten this family again.”

I believe him completely. Because the man who was once a storm has become my shelter. And together we’ll face whatever rises, armed with love stronger than fear, and a future bright enough to outshine the Strip itself.

I lean into him, the ring catching the light in tiny starbursts. A fitting reminder that every ending can blaze like a new beginning.

And this is only page one of the life ahead.

The End