Page 115 of Filthy Little Regrets
Mace gazes up at me. “You’re mad.”
“Not exactly.”
“What’s wrong?”
How do I even begin to explain it? That I’ve been thinking about what it might be like to have his baby. That I want him so much it hurts. How do I make him see that, once again, he has all the power, and I’m holding on, hoping my heart doesn’t get crushed?
Something flashes across his face, and he leans back, patting his lap. “Come here.”
“I hate when you tell me what to do,” I growl, taking a step toward him.
He smiles. “No, you don’t.”
I straddle his hips. The water from my swimsuit soaks his boxers. “I really do.” At some point, these little lies stopped bothering me, probably because we both know the truth. I’m falling. Hopelessly, wholeheartedly, free-falling into love with Mace.
“Kiss me.”
“Don’t fucking tell me?—”
He strikes, catching my mouth and my protest, cutting me off and kissing me until I can barely breathe. His tongue is hot and demanding. Always in control. But would he ever give me the power? Will he relent?
My hand finds his throat, and I use my position and hold to force him back, breaking the kiss with a heavy gasp to glare at him.
This is a battle I have to win.
Mace searches my face. I can’t figure out how to say any of my hectic thoughts out loud, but I don’t need to. Perceptive as always, Mace nods in understanding and softens beneath me. Giving me exactly what I need.
The power.
With my hand on his throat, I brush my lips against his, waiting for him to break, to take the lead, but he waits. I kiss down his throat, move my hand from his neck, down his abs, and grasp his hardened cock through the now wet boxers. I bite his pulse point.
Mace groans, hands smoothing over my ass.
“You always talk about me belonging to you,” I whisper against his neck, kissing my way back up to his throat. “But who do you belong to?” I murmur into his ear, giving him a hard stroke.
“You,” he says without hesitation.
“And what about this cock?” I slide my hand beneath the band of his boxers and free him. Pulling back, I gaze between our bodies, taking in how much he wants me. That’s not enough, though. “Who does it belong to?”
“It’s yours,” he rasps.
“Mine?” I press, smoothing my thumb over his tip.
His hands knead my ass. “Yours.”
I bring him to my center, moving my swimsuit with two fingers and finally meeting his gaze as I ease onto him. “Always?”
“Forever,” he says, gaze roving over my face. “You have me forever.” The confessions slip from his lips like they should be as obvious as the color of the sky, but with how much I’ve lost, I have a hard time trusting forever.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” I slide down his length with a soft exhale. “Don’t break my heart,” I beg, rocking my hips and dragging my fingers through his hair, tipping his head back as I find a steady rhythm. Our eyes collide, and the devotion in his shocks the air from my lungs. “Don’t leave me.”
“Baby,” he says softly, hands drifting up my spine. “I made you a promise. For better or worse.” He pauses to catch his breath as I ride him harder. “Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”
“I like it,” I admit, pressing my chest against his, bringing my mouth inches from his. “Do you like it when I fuck you?”
His eyes flutter closed, and he grips my ass, holding on to me as I writhe against him. “Fuck, Cassia. You’re going to make me come.”
“That’s the point,” I whisper, flicking my tongue along his bottom lip. “You feel so good.” I nip his lip, sliding allthe way down his thick length. “I like fucking you...husband.”
