Page 90 of Unrequited

I lower my voice. “I made that happen because that’s what I bloody do, Zoya. Some people hate that about me. I fucking thrive on it.”

I lean in, pressing my lips to hers again.

“I wanted you. So I took you. And now that I have you, I swear I’ll take the best care of you. Take your phone? No. But other things, love…”

I kiss her mouth again, my tongue teasing hers, just for a fraction of a second before I pull away.

“You may not get the privacy you want. Because I won’t be letting you out of me bloody sight.”

She laughs. “Why not?”

I shake my head, walking her into the bathroom with me. My body aches, my muscles are sore, and sweat is soaking my skin. But none of that matters. Not when I want her like this.

I turn on the shower, spin her around, and give a sharp slap to her perfect, perky little arse.

“You’re fair beggin’ for a proper putting in your place, aren’t you now?” I ask.

“Put me in my place,” she whispers back, and her eyes flutter half-lidded with anticipation. She likes this. Loves it. “Yes.”

My sweet, dark little girl.

I guide her under the water, letting it soak into her hair, and begin washing her slowly. Reverently.

I lather her hair, watching the suds run down her neck, her breasts. Her perfect, upturned breasts. I rinse them off, then bring her nipple to my mouth and scrape each one with my teeth. She moans, head tilting. I take the opportunity to kiss the trail of sudsy water down her neck.

“Let me wash you too? Please,” she says, her hands already on me, possessive and eager.

“Tell me,” she murmurs, fingers trailing over my chest, “how you’re not going to let me out of your sight, Seamus.”

“You won’t have a bodyguard, Zoya,” I tell her. “I’m your shadow, your bloody shield, your man for every damn thing.”

“And what, you’ll be with me all the time?” she teases.

“It’s feasible now,” I say, my voice dark with promise.

My hands roam over the curve of her arse, and all I can think about is how fucking deserving she is of a proper spanking. I want to show her what it is to unravel for me, piece by bloody piece. She’s been raised hard. Firm. She knows the Bratva’s world.

She’s about to know mine.

“What about when you work?” she asks.

“I’ll take you with me.”

“And when you travel?”

“I’ll take you with me.”

She grins. “What about when I need to pee in peace?”

“Now you’re just looking for trouble,” I say, gripping her arse and hauling her leg up onto mine. Her hands, those wicked, beautiful hands, are gripping my shoulders, my chest, my biceps like she’s trying to memorize them.

She grabs my arse. I groan.

I want to take her right here, right now. But I’m not going to claim her virginity in the bloody shower. No. This is just the prelude. The foreplay. I want to make this last.

So I cup her lovely tits in my hands.

“Quiet now, love. Remember what I said about obeying me? There’ll be time for questions later.”