Page 87 of Precious Hazard

Our bodies collide. I’m left in ruin. This shouldn’t feel so damn good, but it does.

Digging my nails into his shoulders, I throw my head back. My world tilts on its axis as I’m left breathless in the arms of this man.

“Look at me!” he growls, filling the room with his deep baritone.

I open my eyes, and my throat swells with emotion. Arturo’s gaze instantly captures me. His lust-filled depths are glowing with fire. And even under the steady stream of water, Ifeel the heat. His jaw is clenched, lips are pressed hard together as he continues his earth-shattering onslaught.

“Good. I want to witness every fucking second of you breaking apart for me,” he bites out as he slams into me again. “Want to see your eyes roll back as you come on my cock. And when your pussy is filled with my cum, I want you to memorize exactly who has been fucking you. You got that, Tara darling?”

I can’t utter a word. He’s pounding into me so hard and fast that all I can do is gasp for air. Every time he pulls almost completely out feels like a monumental loss, an aching absence. Each returning plunge is a welcome relief. But it’s not just my treacherous, treacherous body that receives him gleefully. My stupid heart, too, thunders a surrendering beat.

Damn him!

“Go to hell, darling!” I snarl back.

My response seems to send him into a frenzy. Adjusting his hold, he angles his thrusts so each ram of his pelvis hits my clit and his cock reaches that elusive spot inside me, sending me climbing to new heights.

All rational thoughts flee. I’m reduced to nothing but instinct. A collection of raw nerve endings, sensitized flesh, and overwhelming need. Shivers race down my body, convulsions shake me from the inside. I barely have enough strength to cling to Arturo while being fucked out of my mind. A scream forms deep in my chest, and I can’t keep it in. Can’t suppress it. It detonates, ripping out of me. Every cell in my body lights up like fireworks as I come harder than ever before in my life.

I think I might have momentarily blacked out. Spiraled down into an euphoric abyss. Arturo’s wild roar as he comes jolts me back while his arms tighten around me. My vision is blurry as I barely have enough strength to meet his eyes. But true tohis word, Arturo watches me, heaving out hard breath after hard breath. His dark gaze piercing me like a sword. Slashing through my remaining armor. Obliterating the last of my walls.

What the hell was that? It was epic. Way beyond anything I’ve ever experienced before. And I have a feeling, never will again… unless… unless it’s with Arturo. Because, I’d bet my life that he can deliver again and again.

This man… He has destroyed my foundations. He has also given me what no one else could.

He has robbed me of an imagined future but delivered a better-than-fantasy reality.

The jerk was right. There’s no way any other man could make me feel like he has.

Yet another thing Arturo DeVille denied me.

And there’s no way I could ever hate him for that.

Sorceress. Enchantress. I don’t know what kind of voodoo this woman wields, but it must be some serious witchcraft.

“You’re slipping.” Pushing open the shower door, I step over the pile of my soaked clothes that we flung out earlier.

“You’re too wet,” Tara says into the crook of my neck, but tightens her legs around my waist.

She clings to me like a baby koala as I head to the built-in towel cabinet on the far wall near the tub. The steam in the room is so thick it makes the entire space look almost mythic.

As I pass the mirror over the vanity, I can’t help but stop for a moment. Our shapes are blurry since the glassy surface is completely covered with condensation, so much so that I can only make out our vague outline. Reaching out, I wipe off the moisture, revealing our reflection. Tara’s face is turned away, putting her glorious dark hair front and center. The wet mass of slight waves cascades down her back, nearly reaching her naked ass. With her arms and legs wrapped around me, we appear as if we’re interlocked. I can’t look away from the sight. Damn, it feels so good to have her in my arms like this.

“I’m freezing over here, DeVille.”

My blood pressure skyrockets each time she calls me that. I wish I could figure out her deal. What the fuck does she have against my name? I’ve heard her call me Arturo. My name on her lips has become almost as great an obsession as the taste, the smell, and the feel of this woman in my arms. The only times she seems to slip, though, are when I’m bleeding. I wonder if I’ll have to lose every drop of blood in my veins before she’ll use only my first name.

Grabbing a towel from the shelf, I drape it over her shoulders and step out of the bathroom.

The lights in the room are off, all except for the floor lamp near the window. Its soft glow casts a spotlight directly on the unmade bed. Of course the bed was left in disarray. It’s what my wife is good at. It’s as if she purposefully leaves proof of her existence everywhere.

Sweaters and hoodies are frequently scattered around the living room. Left on the back of the couch like her callingcard. A trail of random books scattered across every available surface. In the den, on the breakfast counter, and even in the laundry room. The milk jug is always shoved onto the wrong shelf in the fridge. In the antique bowl on the downstairs bookshelf, a pair of earrings she wore on one of our dates.

When I look around, it’s as if I can track my wife through the house. If it was anyone else’s shit, my obsessive-compulsive personality would have forced me to immediately tidy up. Everything has its place. Except Tara. And her stuff, apparently. My wife doesn’t just “fit” into a specific slot in my life. She has taken it over completely. And it never even crossed my mind to do away with her things. It’s almost like… like Ilikeseeing her crap everywhere. In the house. Our home.

My gaze is drawn back to the tangled sheets and to the pile of chaotic pillows near the headboard. Did she have a restless sleep? Was she tossing and turning last night, dreaming about me fucking her? Because I did. I’ve been dreaming of sinking into her every single night. Since the moment she entered this house. And if I’m honest with myself, since way before then.

I’d hoped this bizarre obsession with a woman who tempts me to claim her as mine at every turn would end once we finally fucked. Considering the rock-hard state of my dick mere minutes after I just had her, my hope was a foolish dream.

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