Page 68 of Mortgage of Convenience

There’s not a single drop of alcohol in my system, andyet I still feel intoxicated. I know it’s all him. “You. I only want you. Wanted you all week.”

“You have me.”

“Yes, yes. Do it.”

Sebastian strokes a hand down my neck with just enough pressure behind it that the ghost of it stays behind even as he chases his own touch with his mouth. Open kisses follow, their mark flashing cold in his wake, even as my skin heats beyond burning. “I’ve got you.”

I thrust my hands into his hair, moaning.

“Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you so well everyone knows?”

“Yes.”

He squeezes my ass, fingers teasing my clit.

“Please,” I moan.

“Please what?” he says, before kissing me again.

Sebastian’s cock is hard and flushed, and I want to ask him how the hell he can hold me and roll on a condom at the same time, but there’s no way I can form words right now. Not with his tongue doingthat.

The man might be a magician.

“Fuck me. Make me come.”

“Oh, I’m going to do that. I’m going to make you scream.”

Another whine tears its way from me as he eases inside me, and I stop caring about how I sound. All my senses are distilled down to where Sebastian is touching me and the rough, desperate sound of his voice.

“Fuck,” he growls, fucking into me with those incredible thighs. I cry out, my toes curling at his back. “Thereyou go. Jesus, fuck. Look at you,” he says, sounding as wrecked as I feel.

The room fills with the slap and sting of our bodies. Again and again and again he fucks me, with all the power and passion I’ve been fantasizing about. Driving me into the wall with a pounding beat that rivals the music. I don’t care if we break the plaster. I hope we do. As long as he doesn’t stop.

Sebastian nips at my ear and I moan. I want his teeth lower. I want to be marked. “Louder. They can’t hear you.”

“Fuck.”

He growls against my neck, pushing harder, deeper. All I can do is gasp and hold on.

“I’m so close,” I whine. “Please.”

He tightens his grip. “This what you wanted?” I nod. “It is, isn’t it? Fuck, it really is.”

“It’s yours.”

“Is it? Are you mine?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t hear you.”

Sweat pools on my skin, under my breasts, my thighs. Sebastian’s hair is dark and wet with it. We must lookobscene.

He slides a hand between us, circling my clit while I cry out.

“Yes.”

“Better. Show them who you belong to.”

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