Dirty Thief

Rowan breaks right behind me. “Yes,” he shouts, holding me still as he pulses, filling me.

His thighs are against my ass, and his muscles tremor. His breathing is a rasp, and he lowers the straps. The belt falls loose as he wraps his arm across my breasts, lifting me against his chest. He turns my face so he can kiss me. Our tongues curl, and taste, smoothing together as our lips meld.

He’s still inside me, and I clench around him once more. He pulses once more, moaning into my mouth. Every muscle in my body feels spent. My body trembles, devastated by the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced.

His hand moves to my flat stomach, sliding up and down my skin. “This body is mine.” His hand moves higher, cupping my breast. “I love this body.” He kisses my lips, tracing his hand to the center of my breasts over my heart. “I love your soul.”

Another kiss, another possessive sweep of his tongue, and he pulls the mask, causing it to fall away. I blink into his navy eyes, and he smiles. “I love your kinky mind.”

I smile in response, and he holds me, looking down as he unfastens the restraints. My hands and legs are free as he slides out, turning me to lean back against the wedge while he puts our accessories aside and takes the thick robe off the door.

“Are you able to walk to the ocean?” he asks.

“Hm,” I sigh. “Do I have to walk?”

“No.”

He lifts me in his arms and walks through the house to the back door.

I laugh weakly. “I was teasing. I can walk.” Only I’m not quite sure it’s true. My legs feel like noodles.

He holds me closer to his chest, his voice a warm whisper at my ear. “I’ll carry you.”

I wrap an arm around his shoulder and press my cheek to his bare chest, kissing his heated skin. My eyes drift close to the sound of the soft thuds of his bare feet on the boardwalk. Next thing I know, he’s dropped the robe and we’re entering the calm waters of the secluded cove. Rock formations block the strong currents, and the water near Occitan is more like a gentle lake than a boisterous sea.

Rowan turns me so I’m facing him. My legs are around his waist and my arms around his shoulders as the cool water rises higher, lifting us on the delicious currents. It soothes the little sting of my spanking, and I’m completely relaxed.

“It feels so good,” I murmur, tracing my nose along his jaw. He smells like citrus and wood fires.

Currents roll past us in bubbling waves, breaking gently on the shore, but I’m blissed out in the arms of my sexy husband, my perfect lover.

“I hated leaving you this morning.” His bea

rd scuffs my cheek as he kisses my temple. “But you seem to be feeling better?”

Leaning my head on my hand, I study the line of his collarbone as the water swirls around and between us. “I need to finish my plan. Will you help me?”

“I’ll do whatever you need.”

Tightening my arms around him, I kiss the side of his neck. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“We’ll handle all the details tomorrow.”

He’s walking us to the shore, and I rest my head to the side. “I’m completely boneless,” I laugh.

“Come, beautiful. Let’s rest a while.”

* * *

My eyes spring open in the pitch darkness of our bedroom. Dread floods my stomach, and I blink several times, trying to remember. Was it a dream? Rowan is beside me quietly sleeping, but something is wrong. I’m trembling with fear.

Carefully moving the blankets aside, I ease out of our bed. It’s one of those memory foam mattresses, so he doesn’t stir as I rise, scooping his discarded shirt off the floor and pulling it around my shoulders. Quietly, I make my way down the hall to the sitting area where I left my laptop.

I don’t know why I have this premonition. It’s like I know something bad has happened. It’s inexplicable, but the pounding in my chest forces hot tears into my eyes. My fingers fly over the keys as I type the familiar letters and numbers.

The peaceful Maryland neighborhood is on the screen. It’s sunny and a car drives past. Nothing is disturbed. It looks the same as always.

Opening another window, my heart beats faster. London is only a day’s journey from Monagasco, and it’s night on Grace’s street. It appears to be raining. Headlights flash as they roll past, and I see it. I see the dark cars parked along the curb. I see the lights flashing white in the colorless window. I hiccup a breath and pull up the police wire, but I already know. It’s happening again. I don’t have to reference the numbers. I remember them.