and over. His ass, as incredible as it was, moved back and forth like a steam engine.
“Yes!” I whispered.
“I want to put a baby inside of you,” he whispered lightly against my ear. He bit my lobe and circled his tongue around the cartilage. Goose bumps formed across the tender spots of my body. All those dark and untouched places, he made sure to conquer. All of my body was his. All of his was mine. We dove into each other until we could dive no more.
His cock grew bigger and heavier, pumping full as my wetness enveloped him. He was going to come. I could sense it. His expression was strained and his thrusting more powerful. He was giving it all, giving me every last ridge. “I love you,” he said, kissing me one last time before shooting off inside me.
And then it happened. In one split second, his cock expanded, and spilled his seed into me. He pushed himself deeper, holding my waist in place. He fell out of me slowly and full of feeling.
“Fuck!” he hissed, closing his eyes sharply and grinding his teeth down. “You are… You’re fucking perfect.”
That was the day I knew I loved him.
17
Lucas
I couldn’t believe I said those words. Those ill-fated fucking words: I love you.
Disgusting.
Who I was kidding? I did fucking love her. I loved everything about her. I loved the way she smelled, the way she kept her hair unkempt and a little bit messy, and the way she looked at me with fiery passion and mild indignation. I loved the way she cared for her kid, her strength, and I especially loved the way she moved across the room, rocking those hips back and forth in that hypnotizing rhythm.
She turned around, naked and perfect, and I had to follow her to the bedroom. I wanted this to be forever. I wanted her to make me take an oath, that the only job I would ever take would be to give her head, every Goddamn morning.
“You know,” she stared into her mirror as I lay in the bed staring back at her, “I still don't know anything about you.”
“Sure you do. You know I'm Mafia. You know that my family is crazy, that my life isn’t really ideal, or that—” She cut me off.
“I don’t mean that. I mean, I don’t know anything real about you. Who are you really? What do you love? What do you live for?” She turned around and faced me. Her hourglass body was a godsend to this world. Her pubic hair should be placed on a fucking mantle. God, I just loved everything about her. That’s what I lived for. Her.
I placed my hands behind my head, staring at the fan above me. I really thought about the question. I didn’t want to give some half-assed answer like I normally did. If this thing was really happening, me and her, I wanted to be invested in it. “I’m a simple guy. I love old black and white movies, a good cup of coffee in the morning… I love seeing the birds fly over the clouds and listening to the wind blow against the trees. I love the ocean in all of its terrifying glory. But I only live for one thing now.”
“Oh yeah? And what is that?” she asked me, walking over to the bed.
“You.” I said. “Well, and Jen. Because she’s a part of you.” Man, I was getting sappy. And it actually felt… good.
“You know for a guy who’s lived a life in organized crime, you’re really sweet,” she said, smiling. She jumped onto the bed, falling across her 15 or so pillows.
In bed, her expression grew different. Her eyes were lowered and her gaze avoided mine. After some time of telling jokes and simply admiring each other, she asked “Will they kill him?”
“They could,” I simply said, knowing within seconds who she was asking me about. I knew this wasn’t the right answer to give. Still, it was the truth plain and simple.
“Because he's a soldier? Like you?” Her face pale with the heavy conscience of a woman who had ran out of options.
“I don't know anymore. I just know I'm tired of playing cops and robbers. I’m tired of having men’s lives in my hands.” She stared into my eyes like she was trying to dive into my thoughts. I wanted her to dive in. I wanted her to understand. The choices I had to make weren’t easy. When I