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Fuck. I made them red. Gorgeous red.
Her boobs bounce as she fucks me harder and harder.
“Damn. Those tits,” I say again, yanking on the chain.
Then I grip her hips, taking over the thrusting. This is my rhythm now, and as I take over, I twist the chain between her nipples tight, parachuting her into an intense climax.
A moment later, I’m releasing, slamming her down onto me. With every spurt, I grow closer and closer to that place inside me. That place I never go.
That place I never thought I’d want to share with another person.
I’m no longer perplexed. No longer disturbed.
I’m fucking in love.
In love with Skye Manning.
And scared out of my wits.
When we both finally come down from our high, I can’t move.
I embrace her, holding her close—something I’ve done very seldom.
I think about how she’s consumed my thoughts since we met, how I left New York early for her and then had to stop myself from doing it again.
How I walked through the Diamond District and couldn’t resist buying gifts for her.
How I wanted to pummel everyone who looked at her tonight—which was every man, and quite a few women—at the gala.
How I couldn’t bear the thought of her heartbreak over the little puppy at the shelter.
I smile against her hair.
“We’ll be home soon,” I say. “I have a surprise for you.”
Chapter Fifty-One
The limo arrives, and the driver opens the door for us.
I thank him and we walk into my building. I call the elevator.
Skye says nothing as we ascend. Nothing as the door opens.
Nothing as—
“Oh my God!” She clamps her hand over her mouth.
Sasha runs toward us, and she has a friend.
The puppy from the shelter. Skye grabs her and holds her, and the tiny dog peppers Skye’s face with puppy kisses.
Joy. Pure joy in the smile on her lips, in her dancing brown eyes. And on my end? I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life to see Skye so happy. I’m feeling pure joy, too.
And damn, it’s been a long time.
“You like her?” I ask.
“I love her! I adore her. How did you know?”
