Page 37 of Sweet (Chicago Underground 7)
“I’m going to come,” he groaned.
I guided him to my center. With a hard thrust, he pushed inside. It stretched me, bringing a gasp to the surface. The sound seemed to spur him on. He receded only to force his way in again—more insistent this time. He took and took with each forceful thrust in equal measure to what I gave in every stretch and pulse of my walls. He demanded and here, here, take all that you need.
Between my thighs, I felt his movements grow jerky, less refined. His legs trembled in their force, and I rocked my hips up to meet him. Neither of us were whole, neither sturdy. Batted about by storms, we’d found refuge in each other.
He changed the angle, and it hit a spot of white-hot pleasure inside me. My mouth opened on an empty cry, and he took it into his own mouth with a hungry mating kiss. Sensation rioted through my body, zinging from the tip of my tongue to the clench of my toes. The pressure inside me built to trembling, and I held on with my legs and let go with my fingers. He cradled me through the climax, slow and steady, until a sudden stiffness and a grunt signaled his urgent and rocky release.
In the aftermath, I felt my muscles flutter futilely while his cock flexed in response. Our bodies communed while he pressed lazy kisses along the top of my shoulder.
“Is it always like that?” I asked before I could stop myself. I sounded drunk and felt that way too.
He rolled us over, slinging my body over his. “No. But I always hoped it could be.”
I smiled against his skin. “So I guess I’ll have to keep
you around. You know, for the great sex.”
He sounded amused. “Whatever reason you need, I’ll give you.”
I shut my eyes against the rush of emotion. “And for what reason will you stay with me?”
“For the same reason I stood outside your window. To watch you dance.”
The simple, heartfelt words curled around me, adding another layer to the blanket of his arms. He wanted to see me free and happy—well, he would. Just to be with him, to hear the steady beat of his heart, filled me with a joy both complete and unending.
Thank You
Thank you for reading Sweet! I hope you enjoyed Drew and Rose’s story. This is one of my sweeter books, both sexy and romantic. The next book in the Chicago Underground series is Philip’s book, so sign up for my newsletter to find out when it’s released: www.skyewarren.com/newsletter
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If you love the Chicago Underground series, you’ll really enjoy the dark and dangerous Stripped series. New York Times bestselling author Pepper Winters calls it “captivating.”
Click here to download Tough Love for free!
Excerpt from Tough Love
The moon sits high above the tree line. Somewhere beyond those woods is an electric fence. And beyond that is an entire city of people living and working and loving each other. I may as well be on the moon for how close I am to them.
A guard walks by my window at 10:05 p.m. Right on time.
I wait a few minutes until he’s out of earshot; then I flip the latch. From there it’s quick work to push up the pane with its bulletproof glass. I broke the lock a year ago. And almost every night since then I’ve sneaked down the ornate metal trellis—like a thief, stealing a moment to myself.
The grass is still damp from the rain, the ground beneath like a sponge, sucking me in. I cross the lawn, heart beating against my chest. I know exactly where the guards are on their rounds. I know exactly where the trip wires are that will set off the alarms. My father is too busy in his office to even glance outside.
The office I broke into this morning.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I reach the pool. I’m still out in the open, but the bright underwater lights make it hard to see anything on the patio. They make it hard to see me as I curve around the edge and reach the pool house.
The door opens before I touch the handle. “Clara,” comes the whisper.
I can’t help but smile as I slip into the dark. Giovanni always opens the door for me. It’s like some old-world chivalry thing, even though we’re just two kids sneaking around. At least, that’s how everyone treats me. Like a kid. But when I’m with him, I feel less like a girl, more like a woman.
He looks out the door for a beat before shutting and locking it. “Are you sure no one saw you?”
“You’re such a worrywart, Gio.” I let myself fall onto the couch, facing up.
