Book 3: 'Til Death Do Us Part

Eleni

Dante surges up into my mouth, then grunts in pain. I pull back immediately.

“And what if your husband just got the shit kicked out of him?” He smiles sheepishly and gestures to the sling on his arm.

Even when he was shot, he didn’t ask for anything. He really is a different man now.

“Doesn’t change a thing.” I climb slowly on top of him. My side aches, and my head spins a little. I brace my arms on either side of his head and lean down to kiss him again.

His mouth slots perfectly into mine. I know the taste of his lips, the half-gasp that precedes his cock stiffening underneath me, the flutter of his fingers over my bruise. I’ve spent so much time thinking about how well Dante knows me that I never even realized how well I know him. My hips begin moving against him of their own accord in a slow, undulating rhythm.

He groans against my lips.

“Fuck these shirts.” I try to yank his shirt over his head, but the sleeve get