Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 54283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Fuck. That's pretty.
I yank her up into my arms, my lips coming down on hers in a hard kiss. "I think I'll put another baby in you, mi alma. My heir needs a sibling."
"Yes," she whimpers against my lips, writhing.
I'm halfway to the bed with her in my arms, ready to give her what she wants when my phone rings.
"Motherfucker," I growl, whipping my head around to glare at it.
Brynna giggles in my arms. "You should get that."
"You should sit on my cock, mi alma."
"I will after you answer the phone." She tugs on strands of my hair. "Hurry, Naz. Put your baby in me."
Fucking hell.
I storm across the room with her in my arms, snatching the phone up.
"This better be important," I snarl, already lifting her into place, slamming into her. She whimpers, clawing at my arms, at my chest. Fuck, she feels incredible.
"Hey, Nazario."
Hearing his voice is like having the goddamn past reach down the line. I freeze mid-thrust, my eyes locked on Brynna.
"Kincaid," I say.
Brynna's eyes widen in shock. We've kept tabs on him over the years. It's the prudent thing to do when you owe someone a debt of gratitude you'll never be able to repay. But goddamn. I didn't expect the motherfucker to ever call it in. Not after six years. Not after everything he's seen and done in the years since. I didn't even know he was back in town. When I last checked in, he was still working for the DEA in Seattle, singlehandedly keeping his boot on the necks of their gangs.
"Bet I'm the last motherfucker you expected to hear from today," Kincaid says, chuckling ruefully. "Sorry to burst your bubble and shit, but…"
"You need a favor," I say for him.
"Yep. Wouldn't ask if it weren't important. No offense to you, but asking a goddamn cartel kingpin for help wasn't on my bingo card."
"What do you need?" I ask, slowly rocking Brynna against me. What? Her cunt feels like heaven, and I need a taste of it if I'm going to have to deal with this bullshit. Because I can guarantee that whatever he needs my help with is going to be bullshit. LA has been on the brink of a gang war for months now. I keep my nose out of their business. They keep theirs out of mine. I have a feeling that's about to change.
"Can we meet? I'll explain," he says. "You aren't going to like it."
"Oh, I'm aware," I say dryly, but I don't tell him no. He saved Brynna's life. I'll owe him for the rest of mine. Whatever he wants won't balance the scales. It won't even come close. But it's something. "Name the place. I'll be there."
"I'll come to you. Be there in an hour." Kincaid hangs up on me.
I mutter a curse, tossing the phone onto the dresser as I push Brynna up against it, yanking her down on my cock. She throws her head back, moaning as I drive into her, pounding my frustration out into her perfect little hole.
I slam into her, one hand fisted in her hair, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave bruises. I want to mark her, claim her, make sure she knows that no matter what bullshit is about to rain down on us, she's mine.
"You feel that, princesa?" I growl against her throat before nipping at her pulse point. "Feel how deep I am inside this sweet little cunt? How I'm splitting you open on my fucking cock?"
"Yes!" she cries, nails digging into my shoulders as she clings to me. "Fuck, Naz, yes! I feel you everywhere."
I slide my hand from her hip to her ass, squeezing one round cheek before landing a sharp smack. She jolts and tightens around me deliciously.
"Remember it, princesa," I breathe. "Because whatever the fuck he wants doesn't change that this perfect little cunt is mine. And it doesn't change my plans for it. I'm planting my kid in you right here and now. So fucking come and make it easy for me."
She shatters around me, screaming my name as her cunt clamps down on my cock, milking me for all I'm worth. Her nails sink into my shoulders, pricks of delicious pain that add to the pleasure consuming me.
I thrust into her one last time, burying myself to the hilt as I explode. I pump her full, painting her womb with thick ropes of cum. Marking her inside and out.
She whimpers and shudders in my arms when I grind against her, prolonging the pleasure for as long as possible.
"That's it, mi alma," I murmur against her throat. "Take every last drop."
She does, of course. She always does.
I press a kiss to her throat, breathing her in. Cristo. The things she does to me. The way I love her. The sex between us is molten, filthy, and depraved, but it doesn't even compare to what I'd do for her, the acts I'd commit to keep her safe. She and our son are my world.