Beautiful Beast (Gypsy Heroes #3)(68)

‘Awww … baby, don’t be so evil,’ I whisper.

With a totally granite face he undresses, his cock stiff enough to be a coat stand, and crawls on the bed. The violet specks in his eyes are glowing as he grazes his thumb across my lower lip. Delicious.

‘Now why would I be evil? This is a f*cking celebration. We’re both in the clear, my darling.’

‘Exactly,’ I whisper.

He curls his hands around my ribs. His lips brush my ear. ‘Flip over, Princess.’

Something about his voice makes me look again at him, but he smiles innocently. I get on my stomach and he presses his long body against mine and slides his cock in. My body arches with pleasure.

It is the first time. It is our first time.

His arm comes around my body and I thrust my breast eagerly into it. He rams into me hard. Really hard. It’s what he’s wanted to do for a long time. Come inside my body. And he’s going for it.

It is raw, uncivilized, brutal and beautiful.

And when, finally, he gets to spurt his seed deep inside me, it is with a kind of sigh. A sound of deep satisfaction. As if something long desired had been achieved. For some seconds he remains inside me, throbbing. Then he withdraws and I feel his fingers enter me. Not to arouse me, but to smear his seed all around my sex even between my ass cheeks. He takes great pleasure in it. He even bites my ass. Then he turns me around.

‘Your turn,’ he says.

And I smile, because my turn means the world is about to turn upside down. And upside down it goes. He massages my wet flesh. I moan. He sucks my clit. It doesn’t take long before I jerk violently and climax. Does he stop? No. Of course not. His fingers milk me. Again and again. Until I shriek and spasm uncontrollably.

Does he stop then?

Noooooo …

Emotion wells up inside me, a humbling, breaking typhoon. I’m free. I’m actually disease free. I don’t have to worry about infecting him ever again. Tears slide down my cheeks. He licks them. The way a dog would. I like dogs. They are loyal creatures.


‘You’re mine,’ he says and kisses, licks, sucks and strokes every inch of me. Every crevice has its day. We do everything. He tastes my skin as if tasting it for the first time. He holds my thighs and drinks from my *. And then he comes inside me. Again. We go at it for hours.

It is afternoon when I cry. ‘No more, Shane. No more. I can’t take anymore.’

‘Yes, you can,’ he says.

And he is right. I can.

Trembling and breathless I climax again. I flop on my back, exhausted and limp. Shane lies beside me, our fingers entwined. For a while neither of us speak. I look up at the ceiling. ‘What if I get pregnant, Shane?’

‘Don’t worry. We’ll just get an abortion,’ he says.

My head whips around. ‘What?’

He turns his head to face me. ‘What’s wrong?’

For a moment I can’t believe what I am hearing and then I start punching his arm. ‘You bastard,’ I accuse, laughing.

He grabs both my hands and pulls me on top of him. We are both sweaty and our bodies slip.

He doesn’t laugh. ‘Do you know how sad and destroyed I was when you shook your head earlier? I felt as if you had stabbed me in the heart with a knife.’

Immediately I am contrite. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It was no joking matter. I think I was so relieved I kind of lost of my senses. I thought it would be funny. I see now how wrong I was. Will you forgive me?’

‘There’s nothing to forgive. Remember what the most famous person in your land of birth said, Love does not measure. It just gives.’

‘Mother Theresa,’ I whisper.

‘I love you, Snow. You’ll never know how happy I am that your tests came back negative.’

My head swings around. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, I’m in love with you. Can you f*cking believe that?’

I stare at him. ‘It’s not another retaliation joke, is it?’

‘No, it’s not a joke. But I was kinda hoping you might return the sentiment. A bit.’

I start laughing with joy. ‘I love you, Shane Eden. I love you so much, I thought I’d die when we parted. I used to dream about you telling me you loved me, but I never believed that it would happen,’ I reply.

‘You know what you make me feel like? You make me want to dance in the kitchen with you. And go out with you to used bookshops and rescue the oldest, saddest books in them. Or go to the market and buy up all the lobsters in it and set them free in the ocean.’

My eyes start filling with tears of happiness.

‘Do you know that poem by Pablo Neruda, If You Forget Me?’

I shake my head.

‘It reads, if little by little you stop loving me, I shall stop loving you little by little.’ He traces my cheekbone with his finger. ‘Not for me. Nothing you do or say can ever make me forget you and nothing can extinguish my love for you. My love is a guest of eternity. I’m never ever letting go.’

Dizzy with happiness, I get on one elbow and, resting my head on my palm, I circle his nipple with a finger. ‘So when did you realize that you loved me then?’

‘I always felt really possessive of you. From the first moment I saw that slime ball touch your thigh in my club, I felt something, a burning anger, deep inside as if he was stepping into my territory. I think it made me a bit schizophrenic. Sometimes I worried about hurting you and sometimes I was rougher than I should have been. And when I dropped you off after the holiday I was like a bear with a sore head. I drove straight to my mum’s house and I was in such a fowl mood my mother actually chased me out of her house.’