Page 164 of Morally Black Betrothal

“Can you take one more?” he asked as the weight of him pressed me into the mattress along with his cock sliding into the pulsing slick he’d so thoroughly readied. “For me?”

“Mmmm.” I could only moan into the pillow as he eased in, inch by inch. Words had deserted me.

“Such a good girl. You really are my angel.”

But I wasn’t interested in good. I wasn’t interested in being his angel right now.

With a sudden movement, I used my hands and knees to shove back against him, taking him fully.

He choked. “Fuck, Simone.”

I turned to look at him over my shoulder. To my surprise, fear had carved apart his careful mask, like the hesitation was costing him everything as he stared down at the place where our bodies joined. There was a war inside him, between the desperate need to maintain control versus the abject hunger to lose it.

“Brendan,” I called softly.

His eyes dragged to meet mine, wild like the caged animal he so often resembled.

“You can let go too,” I told him. “Please. I want it.”

A sound tore from his throat, half howl, half groan.

With a roar, he pummeled forward, rattling the bedframe, maybe even the building itself. His fingers dug into my hips, dragging me back to meet every ruthless thrust.

“Simone,” he gasped with every deep drive, the South Boston in his voice erupting fully. “That’s it, baby, fucking take it. Take it because you want it, baby. Take it because you’re mine. You. Belong. To me.Say it.”

“I am.” I could only keen into the pillow as he plunged further, harder. “I’m yours, Brendan, I promise. All yours.”

“Yesssss.”

His hand slipped beneath me, finding my clit as if he had been doing it for years, not days.

“One last time, angel.” His fingers circled in time with his savage rhythm. “Come for me again and remind me why I’ll never let you go.”

His name was a cry for salvation. His touch brought me back to earth.

“Fuck, angel—yes, that’s it—SIMONE—” He toppled into his own oblivion, body shaking as he called my name again and again. “Simone. Oh, God, Simone.”

That timbre would echo through my soul for the rest of my years.

Slowly, the world came back to us, and for a while, there was only the soft hush of breaths and slowing heartbeats to fill the room. Brendan pressed a final kiss to my shoulder before he shifted onto one side and wrapped me in those strong arms.

If peace existed in this complicated world for either us, it was right here. In this moment.

And then, just as quickly, it was gone.

“Brendan?”

A deep sigh was emitted behind me. “Yeah, angel?”

“What happened with the Huntingtons?” I had to ask.

Another sigh warmed my shoulder, and Brendan rolled away onto his back. I turned over to watch him drag a hand through his hair. Tension returned to his solemn features.

“I handled it. That’s all that matters.”

I frowned. “But?—”

He cut me off with a kiss, gentle but firm. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”