Zurianne never imagined that saving her mother's life would cost her own freedom. Forced into an arranged marriage with Christopher Whyte the infamous Jamaican Don feared by many,she braces herself for a life of cold stares and ruthless commands. Bu...
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His body pinned me to the sheets, skin hot against mine as our rhythm hit that rough, needy pace. Sinna had this grip on me not just with his hands, but with everything.
His lips were at my throat, his breath heavy, and every movement made it harder to think straight.
" yuh betta nuh come yet, yerr me ?" he growled into my ear, his voice low, dark, and full of need.
I could barely get the words out, breath catching with each deep, demanding thrust. "Yeh... fuck, mi feel yuh... deeper."
He didn't stop. Didn't slow down. His hands locked under my thighs, lifting my hips just enough to hit that one spot over and over again. My nails raked down his back as I arched into him, desperate for more of everything he was giving me.
"Who fah pussy dis? And ansa me slowly"he said, gritting the words against my skin like a promise he intended to keep.
"Yours , Sinna... a fi yuh own ... fuck me love yuh," I moaned, voice breaking under the weight of pleasure.
He kissed along my collarbone, then bit my shoulder just enough to make me feel it. Enough to claim me. My whole body tightened beneath him, shaking with the tension building fast and dangerous.
"Fuck me cah Wull it nuh more ," I whispered, half crying, half-laughing.
"Yes yuh can ," he breathed, his lips brushing mine. "Cause mi nah guh stop."
He slammed into me again, and I swore the stars spun behind my eyes. *********************************
We lay there for a while, tangled up in sweat and heat, the sound of the sea somewhere outside mixing with the way our breaths tried to slow down. My body still pulsed from him, from everything he just gave me. I rested my head on his chest, fingers drawing lazy circles over the smooth ink tattooed on his skin.
His hand brushed against my waist, pulling me closer like he didn't want to let go.
"Mi tell yuh already, mi addicted to yuh," he murmured, voice softer now, but still laced with that raw edge.
"Yuh always seh dat," I said, lips curling into a tired smile. "Yuh lucky mi believe yuh."
"Yuh fi believe mi," he chuckled, his hand now playing in my hair. "Mi carry yuh come a dis place fi a reason, yuh know."
I lifted my head slightly. "Wah kinda reason?"
He kissed my forehead before answering. "Cause mi tired fi hide dis yah weh we avve together. Tired fi pretend. Dis a mi private beach house. Nobody nuh know bout it. Not even mi manager."
I blinked, stunned. "Wait... yuh serious ?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Only yuh. A yahsuh mi come when mi want peace. When mi tired a di noise. An mi bring yuh, Paige. Cause yuh feel like peace."
