Page 59 of The Enforcer's Vow


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"Yes," she breathes, and then we're tearing at each other's clothes with desperate hands.

She pulls at the buttons on my shirt, cursing under her breath when they don’t come loose fast enough. I shrug it off and reach for the hem of hers—my shirt, stretched over her frame like it doesn’t belong to either of us anymore—and drag it over her head. Her bare skin meets the cold air, and her breath catches. I watch her chest rise and fall as she looks at me, unflinching, like she’s daring me to hesitate.

I don’t.

I back her toward the bed, kissing her again—rough, hungry, too many teeth. She responds in kind, tugging at my waistband with impatient hands, and I hear the metallic clink of my belt hitting the floor. My pants drop around my ankles. Her fingers slide down my stomach, grip tight around my cock, and I groan into her mouth. Every thought disappears.

I lift her again and drop her onto the mattress. She lands with a soft gasp, hair spread out over the pillow, eyes locked on mine. I crawl over her, dragging my hands up the backs of her thighs, spreading them apart so I can settle between them. Her legs wrap around my waist like they were always meant to.

Her skin is warm under my palms. Her pulse beats at her throat, steady but hard. I brace my hand beside her head, run the other down her ribcage, and pause at her hip.

She bites her lip as I slide my hand lower, brushing over the curve of her thigh.

"You gonna take your time with me," she murmurs softly, her voice a sultry whisper, "or are you just trying to make me beg?" As I drag my lips slowly along the graceful curve of her neck, my teeth lightly grazing her delicate skin, I reply, "Your begging wouldn’t be the worst sound I’ve heard this week."

Her laughter escapes in a breathless, melodic tone. "You think you’ve earned that?" she teases, a playful challenge in her eyes.

"I’ve earned more than that," I assert confidently, my voice a low rumble.

She gasps softly as I press two fingers between her legs, feeling the heat and wetness that await. "You’ve been thinking about this," I whisper, my words a gentle murmur against her ear.

She arches instinctively into my hand, her body responding eagerly. "I’ve been trapped in this damn house for days. What do you think?" she replies, a hint of desperation lacing her voice, her need as palpable as her touch.

I press down harder, my touch deliberate and languid as I stroke her. “I think you enjoyed it. Pretending to be a couple. Wearing my shirts like they were yours. Sleeping in my bed as if it were home.” Her head tilts back, sinking into the plush pillow beneath her.

“I liked the water pressure in the shower,” she replies with a playful smirk. A chuckle rumbles low in my throat, resonating through the room as I slide one finger inside her, followed by another, feeling the warmth envelop me. “You’re quite the talker tonight,” I tease.

“And you’re taking your time tonight,” she breathes out, her voice a sultry whisper. I curl my fingers just right, finding that perfect spot, and she moans, the sound raw and unrestrained, echoing around us. Her thighs clamp tightly around my waist, an instinctive reaction, but I withdraw before she can reach her peak.

“You’re absolutely wicked,” she gasps, a mix of frustration and desire in her voice.

“You married me.”

She grabs my face and kisses me hard, dragging me down on top of her. “Then fuck me like I did it on purpose.”

That's all the encouragement I need. I capture her wrists in my hands, pinning them gently yet firmly above her head. My hips shift, aligning perfectly until the tip of my cock rests tantalizingly at her entrance, teasing with promise.

"You want it rough?" I murmur, my voice a low rumble, charged with anticipation.

Her eyes blaze with challenge and desire, a daring glint dancing in their depths. "Do you think I can handle anything less?" she replies, her words a daring taunt that dares me to unleash the passion simmering between us.

I thrust into her, hard, burying myself in one stroke.

“Good,” I growl. “Because I’m not pulling out.”

She gasps when I slam into her, her back arching off the bed. Tight, soaked, perfect, she grips me like she’s trying to keep me there forever.

“Fuck,” I growl, dragging out and driving in again. “You were made for this.”

“For you,” she breathes, voice breaking on the words. “Just like this.”

I pin her wrists tighter, hips snapping forward with every thrust. The bed rattles under us, the headboard knocking the wall in rhythm. Her legs lock around my waist, heels digging into my back, and she takes everything I give her.

“You feel that?” I mutter against her throat. “That’s me—right where I belong.”

She whimpers, trying to move under me, to grind up against the pace I set. But I don’t give her control. I fuck her harder, my cock buried deep, her body already trembling around me.

“You wanted this,” I say through clenched teeth. “You started this. Now you’re gonna take every inch.”