Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)(60)

He’s beautiful. God, he’s so beautiful like this, sweaty and straining, his entire body clenched. I wish I could take a picture to look at later so I won’t forget a single detail.

A wave of emotion hits me hard, squeezing my lungs and stealing my breath. I turn my head and close my eyes, bracing against it, but it doesn’t help. I still feel it all.

Everything inside me aches and burns. All the cells in my body are screaming.

And they’re screaming the same thing:

Quinn.

Quinn.

Quinn.

The name of the man who looks at me like I’m a sunrise and laughs when I threaten to end his life.

The man whose ego is so big, it could flatten a city, but whose heart is so tender, it broke when he saw my scars.

The man I know almost nothing about except that he’s sweeter than any made man should be. Under all his macho swaggering, past his comic book superhero good looks and beyond his armor of snark, there lies a soul that aches with loneliness.

Just like mine does.

Or did, until right now.

Panting, he collapses on top of me. His whole body trembles. He pauses to catch his breath, then takes my face in his hands and kisses me deeply.

“Hi,” he says gruffly, looking into my eyes.

“Hi yourself.”

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Maybe I’m thinking about pushing you out a window.”

His laugh is low and breathless. “Or maybe you’re thinking about what a sex god I am.”

“Actually, I was thinking that I’m a lot more flexible through the hips than I thought. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m folded in half underneath you.”

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He lifts his chest so I can pull my legs down, then settles right back on top of me, keeping his cock seated inside me the entire time. I wind my arms up around his shoulders, inhale deeply, then exhale, stretching underneath him like a cat.

He gazes at me from under hooded lids. “I have something to say.”

I fling my arms out to the sides and sigh. “Of course you do.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not bad.”

“I’m going to hunt down these therapists of yours and make them change careers. They’re turning grown men into Oprah Winfrey.”

“Be quiet and listen to me.”

“It’s not like I have a choice. You weigh a thousand pounds. I’m not going anywhere.”

He rolls onto his back, adjusts me on top of him so our bodies are aligned, then tucks my head into the crook of his neck and squeezes me.

“Better?”

Snuggling against his hard chest, I nod.

“Okay. So here’s what I want to say.”

There’s a long, ominous pause.

“Don’t break your brain, Quinn. Just say it.”

His chest rises and falls with his heavy exhalation. He slides his open hand down my spine, his fingers gently tracing a path around my scars. Then, abruptly, he starts talking.

“I’ll kill anyone who ever disrespects you. I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you the wrong way. If anyone so much as annoys you, I’ll put a bullet in his skull and throw his body into the Charles River. You never have to fight your own battles again, viper, understood? I’ll fucking destroy any dumb motherfucker who ever dares to even make you frown.”

He’s so vehement and his words are so unlikely, I start to laugh.

“Wow, Romeo. Does sex always make you this stabby?”

“And she’s laughing,” he grumbles. “Bloody wonderful.”

“Wait…” I lift my head and look at him. “Are you serious?”

“Aye, I’m bloody serious!”

“Because that’s unhinged. You know that, right?”

“I don’t care!”

My brows lifted, I examine his expression. Aside from being insulted that I laughed, he’s completely sincere about his threats.

It’s a strange mix of disbelief and wonder that I feel.

And worry, too. This man’s trigger finger is a little too itchy.

I say softly, “Thank you. That’s lovely. Insane, but lovely.”

He grumbles something and looks away.

Trying very hard not to laugh, I kiss his cheek. Into his ear, I whisper, “You know, for such a macho man, you’re a big softie.”

He grouses, “Don’t say the word ‘soft’ when I’m still inside you.”

I can’t help it now. I drop my head to his chest and laugh until he rolls me back over and kisses me.

Grinning down at me with shining eyes, he says, “What’s that hideous noise you’re making, lass? I’ve heard hyenas that sound better.”

“Excuse me, but at the moment, I’m stuffed to my larynx with your giant dick. My lungs have probably collapsed.”

He beams. “So you like it, do you?”

“Stop fishing for compliments.”

He drops his head and puts his lips near my ear. “You love it. Admit it.”

“I admit nothing.”

When he flexes his hips, I have to stifle a moan. “Wait, how are you still hard?”

“You’re naked. So I’m hard.”

“But you…”