Page 161 of Desperate Crimes
I already have.
And if she ever asked me to do it again?
I’d smile while the world turned to ash.
Because this—her head on my chest, her breath in sync with mine, her body curled into me like I’m not a fucking monster—is everything I’ve ever wanted.
And I will never let it go.
But—yeah, there’s a but—I can’t take another goddamn night of pretending I’m some fragile thing when all I want is to take her apart.
Tonight I’m done waiting.
“I can’t take it anymore,” I growl as we settle into bed, the words ripped from somewhere low and aching in my gut.
She looks up at me, blinking.Concern on her face.
My sweet little lamb.My deadly little lioness.
Images of her with a gun in her hand flash through my mind and it shouldn’t affect me this way—but my cock grows even harder beneath my boxers.
“What?Are you okay?”she asks, brows furrowed, voice soft.
“No, Wife.I’m not.”
I sit up against the headboard, my muscles twinging in protest, but I don’t give a damn.
My gaze is on her—only her.
“You know, you have got the perfect mouth, Wife.Did I ever tell you that?”
Her cheeks flush.
“It’s the kind of mouth that makes a man addicted.”
She fills her lungs with air.The move makes her shirt slip off one shoulder and teases me with just a peek of skin I need to taste.
“Nico,” she whispers my name, and I close my eyes.
“Say it again,” I murmur.
“Nico, are you alright?”she asks half worried, half suspicious now.
She knows that tone in my voice.
That edge.That need.
“Not yet.Come here,” I growl, gripping her hips and pulling her onto my lap like I’ve wanted to do every damn night since we got back.
“Nico!”she gasps, hands flying to my chest.“You’re hurt?—”
“Not that hurt,” I groan as I slam my mouth to hers.
The kiss is rough.
Desperate.
Possessive.
