Page 82 of Rope the Moon


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“No, no, I won’t.”

She shakes her head furiously. And it’s like an unlocking. Dakota goes wild. Her ass slapping off my hips, she fucks me with all she has in her. Friendship. Love. Anger. Grief.

“Davis.Davis.”

The husky sound of my name on her lips shatters me.

“Now, Cupcake,now. Come with me,” I order. Savagely, I thrust, burying myself so deep inside of her my mind empties completely.

Our bodies explode, rocking each other. Dakota jerks against me, gasping, crying out. My orgasm tears through me like a lightning strike. I come so goddamn hard I see stars.

Six years. Six fucking years without this woman.

I’ll never get over this night.

I’ll never be good enough to deserve it.

Dakota moans, legs buckling as I slip out of her. I catch her high around the waist to pull her limp, trembling body into my arms.

This unforgettable woman. Our flame never burned low. Not now. Not ever.

“Davis,” she breathes, twisting into me to wind her arms around my neck.

“You okay, Koty?”

She lifts her dark head, her breathing uneven. My heartbeat steadies when I see her gorgeous face, her content smile. “Better than shortcake,” she says, sweeping a hand over my shoulder.

I chuckle. “Glad to hear it.” I scan her eyes, her face. She looks happy. It’s all I wanted.

After shutting off the water, I grab a towel and wrap it around her shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

“Where are we going?” she asks as I scoop her up in my arms and lift her out of the shower.

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “To bed.”

Light illuminates her eyes, and the corner of her mouth tips up. She doesn’t respond, only presses a sweet kiss to my jaw before laying her head on my chest. My heart squeezes tight, a primal protectiveness washing over me.

I take a deep breath as we step out of the bathroom.

She needed this. I gave it to her.

And tomorrow it’ll all go back to the way it should be.

Before us.

Iwake in the dark, sore between the legs, and sigh.

Worn out and worked over. That’s what Davis Montgomery does to me.

The air smells like us. Sex and heat and sweat. I roll my head across the pillow to look at the powerful force of nature sleeping beside me in the rumpled sheets. Davis is on his back, one arm crossed over his muscular chest. And the other arm…

His hand lays pressed up against my rounded belly. So large it nearly covers half of it. As if it’s his.

My core curls in a mixture of longing and desire. I never thought I’d be in Davis’s bed again.

Wildest dreams, right?

The man’s still as amazing in bed as I remember.

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