Mailing List Sneak Peek
This is fucking wrong.
It’s filthy, and dirty, and illicit. She gasps, her thighs tightening around my muscled hips as the sound tumbles from her lips into the big night sky. My lips find the soft skin of her neck, right where it joins her collarbone, and this time, she moans in pleasure as I rake my teeth across. My hips roll forward. I’m hard — fuck I’m always so fucking hard with her, and when I feel it slide against her wet heat, the groan rumbles through my throat.
This might be wrong, but there’s not a power on earth, in heaven, or in hell that could drag me away from her right now.
You might say she’s not mine, and you might be partially right — technically right. But say it to my face and see what happens. Because the truth is, she’s been mine since before I ever laid on eyes on her. She’s been mine before I fell into her hard, before I claimed her as my own and before I made a vow to protect her with my life.
…Before I decided to take her from the piece of shit who never deserved to be in the same damn room as her to begin with.
She cries out as my thick head eases inside, her body quivering and arching towards me as I slide inside. She’s so fucking wet for me — so slick and slippery and eager for me — just like I like her. Just like she always is for me. This slow penetration is just the beginning. This is just the warm up before I take her in my big strong hands and fuck her, like a goddess like her deserves to be taken. I’m going to fuck her hard, like she likes it.
Like I like it, with her.
Her fingernails rake down my back, leaving lines on top of the ones she’s already put there — damning marks over damning marks. Evidence of our sin that I’d have tattooed across my skin if I could. Fuck the consequences. Fuck them finding out. I’m facing worse than death if we’re discovered, but I do. Not. Care.
Because you see, this goes deeper than me protecting her. It goes further than taking her from the cruel, sadistic fuck who calls himself her husband. I know on paper, what we’re doing makes me a piece of shit, and her hate-able at best. But that’s without knowing the full story. That’s without knowing the details.
…And the devil is in the details, trust me.
“Harder,” she gasps softly, her hips rolling to meet mine as she swallows up the rest of me, making me groan. “You know how I want it,” she moans.
I do. I know exactly what she wants. My angel. My obsession. My heart.
…My job to protect. Protect, not claim as my own. I’m her bodyguard, she’s my charge, and her husband is my boss — Gino Moretti, the cruel, iron-fisted head of the Moretti crime family out here in Vegas.
Mob queen. Untouchable. Off limits. Big, neon red warning signs. Do not pass go. Do not collect two-hundred fucking dollars. Get-buried-up-to-your-neck-in-the-desert-for-the-vultures-to-find-you type of don’t touch.
Because here I am, sliding every single inch of me deep inside of her, feeling her moan into my ear, feeling her nails scratch down my back and her thighs tighten around my hips and her slick, tight, perfect little pussy tighten around me.
Don’t you dare fuckin’ judge me. You don’t know our story, and you don’t know Gino. He doesn’t deserve her. He never did. But he took her anyways — the winnings of a bet her father made when he owed Gino and couldn’t deliver. She was never his wife, she was his prisoner. A little bird locked in a cage.
You could blame Gino for putting me in charge of watching her. You could blame her father for being a lowlife. You could blame all sorts of people, but if you want to point fingers, blame me.
Because I saw her, I wanted her, and I fucking took her. And I won’t ever apologize for that.
“Fuck, Quinn,” I groan, my lips crushing to hers as her legs lock around my waist. My muscles ripple, one hands gripping her ass tight and the other sliding up into her long, fiery red hair. I pull back, my dark eyes locked on her brilliant green ones, and I just lock my gaze on hers as I watch her face start to crumble in pleasure.
She cries out as I drive deep into her, fucking her, claiming her, burying every inch inside of her harder and faster as my fingers tighten on her skin.
“Roman,” she gasps as she throws her head back and lets go. I feel her body shiver and writhe against mine, and feel her coming so hard against me, and I know I’m never letting go.
This is wrong.
This is a sin.
This could get us both killed.
…But she’s worth it.
Coming Monday, May 21st!