Page 60 of Dirty Lyrics
His warmth cradling me and the baby I’m growing.
His love pressed to me like armor.
“I hate to rush this, but my wife needs to rest, Mr. Gold,” Rico says firmly, his lips brushing my temple before he leads my father to the door.
“Congratulations, Rico. Maya,” my father says before parting, and the softness in his voice surprises me.
But then the elevator doors close, and the tension drains from the room.
A few seconds later, Rico is back. He doesn’t hesitate—doesn’t even pause.
He crosses the living room in three long strides, sweeps me right off my feet like I weigh nothing.
“What are you doing? I’m too heavy!” I protest, laughing breathlessly against his chest.
He shoots me a look that melts my insides. “Not for me, Songbird. Never for me.”
And then, lower, his voice turning molten. “Now, you have to rest before we get ready to leave tonight. And I know just how to make you relax.”
My breath hitches.
His dark eyes glitter with promises, heat pooling low in my belly until my thighs press together instinctively.
“Yeah?” I whisper, half-daring, half-needy.
“Yes, Wife.” His mouth curves, wicked and reverent all at once. “Now you just lie down here and be a good little girl, while I make you feel better.”
He lays me down on the cool sheets of our bed and takes his time peeling me out of the soft T-shirt and shorts I’d been lounging in.
His rough hands slide over my curves, reverent, possessive, his touch both gentle and greedy.
Every brush of his fingers makes me tingle, my body coming alive under his worship.
“Rico.” My voice is already shaking.
He smiles, low and dangerous, then settles between my thighs, his big hands curling around them, spreading me wide open for him.
The sight alone makes me whimper.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, eyes locked on me like I’m the only thing in his universe. “My goddess. My Songbird. Mine.”
Then his mouth—that talented, perfect fucking mouth—is on me.
Hot, wet, devastating.
His tongue flicks over my clit, slow at first, deliberate, and the tension in my body unravels instantly. I arch into him, gasping, my hands fisting the sheets.
He groans against me like he’s the one being fed, like my pleasure is his sustenance.
“Rico!” I cry, hips bucking when he latches on harder, sucking, tasting, teasing until I’m trembling all over.
He grips me tighter, holding me open, his tongue stroking me in long, devastating sweeps before diving lower, lapping at my slick folds, circling back to my clit until I’m keening his name.
It’s worship.
Raw and unashamed.
And as the pressure builds higher, as my body sings for him, one thought flashes through my mind.
