51. Sabrina
51
Sabrina
B efore we reach the threshold, he lifts me, scooping me into his arms like I weigh nothing, his healing leg apparently forgotten, or maybe just overridden by a more powerful force.
I cling to him, burying my face in his neck, inhaling his scent. That intoxicating mix of ozone and fig leaf and his own natural Leo scent.
As we cross the threshold into his palatial master bedroom, it feels like stepping into a new world. A world where fairy tales, even fucked-up, complicated billionaire ones, can actually come true.
He sets me down in front of the massive bed. Our breaths clash as we urgently unravel each other. My sweater hits the carpet first, followed by his tailored shirt. As usual his exquisite chest takes my breath away, looking like marble carved by a fevered god, abs taut as bowstrings, shoulders broad enough to eclipse the sun. I trace the ridges eagerly, hungrily, my nails catching on the sweat-slicked valleys between them, and he growls.
His fingers make quick, possessive work of my jeans, peeling the denim from trembling thighs, while I fumble with his belt, the leather sliding free with a sinful hiss. His trousers drop, and there’s nothing left but the cling of his white boxers, straining against the hard lines of his hips and the stiff outline of his cock. I hook my thumbs into the waistband, savoring the tremor that ripples through him as I drag them down. His cock springs free.
Long. Thick. Vein bulging.
A bead of pre-cum gleams on the tip.
My mouth waters and it’s all I can do not to grab it and start sucking it right there.
God, his body is a living altar... every muscle defined, relentless, a Grecian statue flushed with heat and hunger.
His hands find the clasp of my bra, releasing it with a flick. The lace slithers away, and his gaze burns where it lands, branding my skin.
“You’re perfection,” he rumbles. “Sheer, utter perfection.”
His palm skims my ribcage, down to the lace clinging to my hips. One tug, and it’s gone, pooled around my ankles. I step out of them, and the air hums with electricity as we collide. Skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.
The world dissolves into the slide of his lips, the crush of our bodies.
Holy mother, I missed this.
So much.
Missed him.
Then he’s laying me back on the massive bed. The high-thread-count sheets feel cool against my bare skin. The city lights glitter outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, a million distant stars creating a backdrop for our own private universe .
He stands over me for a moment, his gaze worshipful, a look that makes me feel… cherished. Even with the stretch marks and the post-baby softness I’m still so self-conscious about.
“Sabrina,” he whispers. He traces the line of my hip, his fingers sending shivers across my belly. “I missed you so much.”
And then he’s on the bed with me, his body covering mine, warm, solid, reassuring. He kisses me again, slow, deep, exploring. His cock presses against my thighs, and I moan.
His hands roam, mapping every curve, every inch of my skin, with a reverence that makes me tremble. He kisses my stretch marks, the faint, silvery lines on my belly, relics of Mia, of our shared history. He kisses them like they’re precious, like they’re part of what makes me… me.
And in that moment, all my insecurities, all my fears about not being good enough, about not measuring up to whatever women he might have had in his past… the Jen’s and Michelle’s of the world... they just… dissolve.
Leo pulls away for a moment, pinning me with those ridiculous green eyes. They’re so much softer tonight, less Wolf of Wall Street, more Labrador that lost its favorite chew toy for two weeks.
“Are we good?” he asks.
In answer, I kiss him hard enough to bruise.
His groan vibrates through my lips. His broad hands dive into my curls, holding me my head while his tongue sweeps in.
This is happening. Seriously happening.
He kisses down my neck, to the hollow of my throat, and further down my chest. His mouth covers one nipple, his tongue flicking, and I arch so hard I nearly drown us both in cleavage.
He sucks, bites, licks.
He shoves one hand into my pussy, and groans when his knuckles find soaked heat.
“So wet already,” he says.
He pulls back, and his gaze roams me like I’m a priceless work of art. He crawls down the mattress, his muscles rippling, until his breath is hot against my inner thigh.
“Spread for me.”
My legs fall open on command.
He inhales at the sight. “So fucking hot.”
His fingers part my folds, and I moan.
“Fuck, Sabrina.”
His tongue makes first contact. His slick heat sweeps up my pussy and then circles the swollen bud.
My hips buck and I fist the sheets.
He works with patient precision, alternating soft licks and firm suction.
My back bows and a strangled moan rips free.
He slides two fingers inside, crooks them, finds the spongy spot that turns my vision white. “You like that?”
“ Yes, god, yes ,” I blurt out.
“Good girl.” He speeds up.
My orgasm builds sharp and fast. I gasp, thighs trembling.
He hums approval against my clit as I start clenching.
“Leo!” I cry.
The stars fade, but he doesn’t stop.
“I can eat your gorgeous pussy all day,” he says.
He keeps licking, his fingers thrusting deeper. Over-sensitive nerves spark. Pleasure piles on pleasure until it tips toward unbearable.
“Too much,” I pant.
“Take it.” His voice is ragged. He drags his mouth lower, replacing fingers with tongue, fucking me with long strokes. The filthy wet sounds echo in the bedroom.
I glance down. While he’s tongue fucking me, his hips rock against the comforter. He’s rutting into the sheets like an uncontrollable animal, pre-cum smears all over the gray cotton.
The sight flips a switch inside me and I’m orgasming again.
“ LEO! ” I scream.
He growls. He thrusts harder with his tongue. Harder, and faster.
His shoulders abruptly tense and he shudders, a groan ripping from deep inside his chest.
Hot fluid spills onto my thigh as his cock unleashes while he’s still feasting on me. The primal honesty of it detonates yet another orgasm.
My pussy clamps around his tongue, and I scream again, wordlessly this time.
He collapses face first between my legs, his lips directly on my pussy, his hot breath inside me. We lie there in a tangle of sweat, saliva, and the stickiness painting my skin. My heart thunders.
After a moment he lifts his head, his hair wild, his chin glossy with my fluids. “Sorry. Lost control.”
I laugh, voice shaky. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. No apology needed.”
His grin is lopsided. “Sexier than that time in the gym?”
I giggle. “Even better. There’s just something about watching you lose control while fucking bedsheets and eating my pussy that turns me the fuck on.”
“Well then, we can’t put your erotic energy to waste now, can we? Round two. Need a condom.”
He grabs a packet from the drawer of his nightstand and rips it open. He slips it on, slowly rotating the rubber over his throbbing cock. The fact he’s still rock hard after that... well, let’s just say, his sexual endurance never ceases to amaze me.
Suddenly he’s kissing me softly, and I melt into him. I wrap one hand around his sheathed cock, and he flinches, then kisses me harder.
“Make love to me, Leo,” I tell him from the corner of my mouth.
He positions me beneath him, those godlike thighs caging my hips as he slides into me in one relentless glide.
The stretch steals my breath, so perfect I arch off the bed, my moan tangling with his growl.
When he’s fully sheathed, our foreheads press together, and his sweat drips onto my skin. I taste the salt. Yearn for more of it. I lick his cheek.
His green eyes are darker now, more primal.
Just the way I like them.
He moves slowly, his hips rolling like he’s savoring every inch, every shudder I can’t suppress.
My fingers dig into his huge biceps, the muscles flexing under my grip as he controls the pace.
“Thank you for giving me another chance,” he rasps.
I can’t reply. I can’t say a word.
“I’ll. Do. Whatever. It. Takes.” He punctuates each word with a snap of his hips, hitting a spot that makes me cry out each time .
My nails score his back, and he groans in approval, as if my marks are a gift.
“ Faster, ” I manage.
The demand spills out, raw and hungry.
He obeys instantly, slamming into me with a ferocity that rattles the headboard.
I groan, almost wishing I hadn’t said a word.
The rhythm is punishing, the sweat slicking his chest as he pins my wrists above my head.
My earlier release makes the glide obscenely smooth, and I gasp at the filth of it, the sheer ownership.
“Look at me,” he orders, his voice fraying.
His free hand slides between us, his fingers circling my clit with ruthless precision. “I want to watch you break.”
Our eyes lock as pleasure coils tighter inside me.
I bite my lip, tasting blood.
“That’s it,” he growls, his hips stuttering. “ Cum for me .”
The command snaps the last thread.
I shatter, my back bowing as my climax rips through me, and my scream is muffled by his mouth crashing down onto mine.
Then he follows with a roar against my lips, spilling into the condom, his body shuddering like a quake.
Afterward, he collapses to one side, dragging me onto his chest.
His heartbeat races against my ear, rapid and alive.
I trace the crescent marks I left on his shoulders, my PR-polished facade in ruins. His housemaid is going to have a field day tomorrow... the sheets stained with blood, cum, saliva...
Oh well. I’m sure he’s paying her very, very well.
We lie tangled together in the massive bed, the city lights painting soft patterns on our skin. My body is still humming, though it’s sated in the best possible way.
But more than that… my heart feels… full. At peace.
The usual anxieties, the fears, the insecurities… they’re still there, maybe, lurking in the shadows, but they’re muted. Subdued by the overwhelming power of what just happened between us.
Minutes pass before either of us speaks.
“I’m terrified,” I admit finally. Quietly. Saying those words makes me feel so vulnerable, that for a moment I hope he didn’t hear. That he fell asleep.
No such luck.
His hand gently strokes my back. “Of what?”
“That one day you’ll wake up and miss flying. That you’ll resent me for grounding you. Or that Luca will somehow drag you back into the chaos.”
He grabs my chin with his hand, and turns my face toward him. “I grounded myself, remember? You just reminded me I had something worth living for.”
“I know,” I reply. “But my nightmares are stubborn.”
“Then we’ll fight them together.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Every time fear shows up, we talk. No secrets. Deal?”
I nod. A tear slips. He wipes it with his thumb.
“I have fears, too,” he whispers. “I still don’t know what being a good dad looks like. I don’t want to repeat my old man’s script.”
“You won’t.” I promise him. “We’ll learn on the job. ”
He smiles. “Our performance reviews will be brutal. Mia already throws blocks at my face.”
“Builds character,” I counter.
We laugh. The heaviness lifts.
I close my eyes, pressing against him.
“Sabrina,” he murmurs after a moment, his voice rough with spent passion.
“Hmm?” I snuggle closer, reveling in the warmth, the solidness of him.
“Stay,” he says. “Stay with me. Tonight. Tomorrow. Always.”
Always.
The word used to terrify me.
The promise of forever, a promise I never believed anyone, especially not a man like Leo Maxwell, could actually keep.
But now… it sounds… like everything.
“Okay,” I whisper back. “Okay, Leo. I’ll stay.”
He tightens his grip, pulling me impossibly closer, and I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his scent, feeling his heart beat strong and steady against mine.
And for the first time in a very, very long time, I actually believe it.
In the promise.
In him.
In… us.