speak, I nodded frantically so he wouldn’t stop.
But he didn’t accept my nonverbal answer. He eased the pressure on my clit. “Whose are you?”
“Yours.”
The pressure returned as he rubbed tight circles. “Say it again.”
My neck arched, my orgasm hovering around the edge, so close to crashing over me. Drowning me. Forcing the words out while I could, I rasped, “I’m yours.”
“Fuck. Yes,” Maximo grunted as he lost control, fucking me harder than he ever had—which was saying something.
My orgasm tore through me, eviscerating me from the inside out. I didn’t break. I shattered into a million shards, and Maximo was all that held me together.
Head falling back, Maximo groaned, harsh and low, as he came, filling me. His thrusts slowed before he planted himself deep.
Slumping forward, he gave me most of his weight as he licked and nipped my neck, collarbone, and breasts. “I could spend the rest of my life buried in this pussy and it wouldn’t be long enough.”
His touch was addicting.
But it was those obscenely sweet words he offhandedly spoke with his silver tongue that were the most dangerous.
Before I could respond—not that I planned to—he rolled off me. “Go get ready for bed, Juliet.”
My exhausted body and I had no interest in arguing, so I climbed off the bed and opened my suitcase.
Hellloooooo.
Right on top, there was a sinfully decadent lacy gray bodysuit I’d never seen before. There was no way Maximo knew about it, otherwise he’d have told me to put it on before immediately ripping it off.
He was not a patient man.
This explains Ms. Vera’s mischievous smile.
She’s a great wing-woman.
Since putting on lingerie after sex was like ordering dinner after you were already full, I pushed it to the side and grabbed my toiletries before going into the bathroom.
When I returned, Maximo was on his phone. His eyes were on me, alert and furious—though that part didn’t seem aimed my way. “Let me know.”
“Everything okay?” I asked when he ended the call.
“Just some post-fight bullshit. It happens.” He went into the bathroom, returning a couple minutes later smelling like mint and him. Rather than climbing into bed with me, he stood next to it. “Tired?”
I sprawled like a starfish. “Exhausted.”
“The good kind?”
“The best kind.” Yawning, I muttered, “I take it there’s a reason you’re not in bed with me.”
“I need to make a few calls in the living room.”
“Can I stay here and sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Will you come in and spoon me?”
“As soon as fucking possible.”
“Then enjoy your calls.”
He bent to take my mouth, and God, his kiss had the power to wake me up faster than a triple shot of espresso.
Before things could get really good, he pulled away. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be here.”
“And thank fucking Christ for that,” he muttered before leaving the room.
Sinfully charming with a silver tongue.
I’m in so much danger.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Tease
Juliet
WHY AM I SO SORE?
Oh.
Right.
I need to stop breaking the rules.
Or maybe break them more.
I’m not sure which.
Aching yet content, I dropped my head against the shower wall and let the jets hit my muscles.
It felt good, but the one at home was better.
When I was finished and dressed, I started to pull my hair up into a messy bun when I caught my reflection.
First, I saw the small smile that seemed to permanently tip my lips.
That observation was quickly forgotten as I took in the love bites that marred the skin. They were not subtle, but they were undeniably hot.
What is that man’s obsession with marking me?
Leaving my hair down to hide them, I went into the penthouse’s living room to find Marco waiting.
Sitting in a chair with a cup of coffee, he barely glanced up from his phone as he pointed to the kitchen bar. “Breakfast.”
I walked over to see a bowl of yogurt topped with fruit and granola.
My fave.
Sitting on a stool, I faced away from the kitchen as I held the bowl and ate. I checked everything out since I hadn’t seen it the night before. It was swanky, carrying over the color theme and wrought iron and mirrored details.
“What are those two doors?” I asked Marco.
He didn’t glance up. “Second bedroom and bathroom.”
He has the emotional range of a potato.
Setting the empty bowl down, I got up and…
Just stood there.
I knew I wanted to get out. Explore. See something. Do something.
I just had no idea what that something was.
After a few moments, Marco finally looked at me. “Want to go swimming?”
It seemed anticlimactic to do something I could do at home, but I did love a