Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

Late into the night, my home remained so full of joy, light, and warmth, eating and drinking and laughter. Now the guests have gone, the halls are dark, my girls sleeping peacefully down the hall. Presley and I are curled up together in my bed . . . and this feels like family too.

“Are we going to talk about your surprise today? What made you think of it?” Presley asks, her head pillowed on my chest.

I run my fingers through her elegant spill of dark hair. Her relationship with her father is something that has been on my mind for a long time, actually. Maybe it’s because I’m a dad now as well and could never imagine not having a relationship with my daughters. But it was more than that too.

“Well, I never got a chance to reconcile with my father . . . or protect my brother . . . but I figured I could still help you with yours.”

She props herself on her elbow to stroke my stubbled cheek, sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dominic.”

I still don’t know how to handle it when she looks at me like that, when I can see the full, overwhelming depth of what she feels for me. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s in the past.”

“The past can still hurt,” she says softly.

“It can. But I have a present to take care of . . . and a future to look forward to.”

We lie together for a while, just enjoying each other’s warm solidarity. Then, in a much lighter tone, she asks, “So, what on earth did you say to convince my dad?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” I say, not because I actually don’t want to tell her, but because I want to make her laugh.

ribs playfully. “Oh, come on, I’m dying to know. Dad almost never

think what did the trick was finding some common ground. I told him I’m a single father too, and I understand how

she

“Are you oka—”

you so

every time I hear those words. “I love you too,” I murmur against her

never would have let myself think that, let alone say it out loud. But now I can. Every hour

everything I have. Our touches quickly turn from sweet to

she says, already breathless

quiet if you can.” I nip at

makes a torn, needy

is yet another kind of coming home. We rock together, slow and sensual, as if we have all the time in the world—because now we do. I marvel at that knowledge, luxuriate in it, in her body and her moans and the love

making this easy,”

just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” I kiss her, sealing in our sounds of pleasure, and repeat the move until she’s

me. My hands run over her hungrily, caressing every inch of skin I can reach. My whole body is tensing, nerves sparking, so intense, and it’s clear she’s quickly getting closer too. Her muffled moans

her trembling turns into full-body quakes. At the sensation of her arching and writhing beneath me, clenching in waves around my cock, I can’t hold out any longer. Pleasure sweeps over me like a tsunami—with a long, rough-edged