I lose it.
I scoop her up without a word, kicking off my jeans as I carry her to the bed. She giggles as I drop her down on the mattress, lips still glossy pink, tongue flicking across the corner of her mouth like she’s starving for more. And those clothes I let her borrow are in my fucking way.
Like I’m unwrapping a gift, I peel the shirt off her. Then the shorts, dragging them down her soft thighs, revealing that bare pussy glistening between her legs. I tug my own shirt off and toss it aside, and her eyes darken as they rake down my chest.
“On your hands and knees,” I say.
She obeys instantly, crawling to the center of the mattress and arching her back, giving me the perfect view of her juicy ass.
Bite it.
I kneel behind her, run my hands down her sides, then grip those hips and plunge inside.
She gasps, her back bowing in a perfect fucking arch. Her pussy clenches around me like a fist, hot and soaked and so fucking tight I see stars. I bottom out, the perfect swell of her ass slapping against my hips with a sound so filthy I have to grit my teeth not to come right there.
I groan, fingers digging into her hips like I could pull her further onto my cock.
“I’ll never get over how fucking perfect you feel.” I rasp, snapping my hips forward again, hard enough to shake the whole bed.
“Fuck yes,” she whimpers.
Greedily, she rocks back into every thrust, that ass bouncing just right. Her fuzzy pink socks kick behind her—the tips of them peeking out as her legs twitch from the force of each stroke.
“Make me come, West.Make me come.”
I grip her tighter and shift my angle, tilting her hips up with one hand, the other arm wrapping around until my fingers are between her thighs. I find her clit and rub in fast, tight circles.
“Come for me,” I growl, hips driving into her faster.
She moans into the pillow, legs shaking.
And then I feel it. That perfect little flutter. The way her walls clamp down, rippling around me like her body is trying to lock me inside. Her body trembles, legs twitching, and she lets out a moan so wrecked and high it doesn’t sound real.
“That’s it,” I pant as I slow my thrusts just enough to let her ride it out. “That’s my good little fox.”
I can’t hold back anymore. I pull out just before I lose it, stroke myself until I’m right there, and then I bend down, sink my teeth into the curve of her ass, and come with a groan that tears out of my chest.
She yelps at the sudden bite, then laughs, breathless and blissed out, before collapsing onto the mattress.
I push up and head to the sink. I run the water until it’s warm and grab a washcloth. When I come back, she’s lying there smiling up at me, eyes heavy lidded, chest rising in a slow, rhythm. I kneel beside her and clean her gently. Wipe away the frosting, the come, the mess we made together until only warmth remains.
Finished, I strip the used blanket off the bed and exchange it for the thick, furry one that’s draped across the couch. Then I tuck her under the covers and climb in next to her.
Emme curls toward me, pressing her face into my chest with a quiet, contented sight. I bury my face in her hair and hold her close, breathing her in—the sweetness of her skin, the faint trace of sugar that still clings there, the scent that’s already become home.
I don’t say it out loud, not yet, but the thought settles deep and certain as we both drift off to sleep—I can’t imagine this place without her. And if I’m honest with myself, I don’t want to imagine my life without her either.
CHAPTER 9
EMME
West’s armis heavy around my waist as I awaken, his breath slow and even against the back of my neck. I close my eyes again, letting myself melt into the weight of him holding me like I’m something he doesn’t want to lose. For a long, soft moment, I just lie there and breathe him in—clove and pepper and something darker that’s uniquely him.
He shifts behind me, murmuring a good morning, his voice rough and gravelly from sleep.
I smile and wriggle closer. “How’d you sleep?”
He answers by tightening his arm around my waist, pulling me that last inch until there’s no space left between us. His beard grazes my shoulder as he nuzzles the side of my neck. “Best sleep of my life,” he says, lips brushing my skin.
