By the time I kneel at the edge of the bed, her thighs are parted for me, her slick glistening, and I grin because I’ve never wanted to devour anyone the way I want her.
“I almost feel bad,” I murmur, running my hands up her legs, “that I didn’t get you the matching anklet. Just so I could feel it dangle while I do this.”
Her laugh stutters into a moan as soon as my tongue meets her, the sound vibrating against my mouth. She fists the sheets, arching up, her thighs trembling as I lick and suck, as I take my time with her.
Every flick of my tongue, every curl of my fingers inside her, pulls another sound out of her until she’s gasping my name, her hips rolling against my face.
She comes hard, moans spilling out, her body quaking as I keep working her, dragging it out until she’s shaking and pushing weakly at my shoulders.
When I finally pull back, my chin wet, my cock is throbbing so painfully that I can barely focus. I shove my pants down, freeing myself, and stroke once, twice, trying to get a grip on the control that’s already slipping.
“Ready?” I ask, voice rough.
She nods. Her eyes are wide, her lips swollen from my kisses.
I line myself up and push into her slowly, groaning at the way her walls grip me, hot and tight, like she was made for me. She claws at my arms, nails digging in, her mouth falling open as I bury myself deep.
I want to say something crude, something about how her cunt is the best thing ever, something about how I’ve dreamed about this for days on end, something that matches the fire between us—I want to say “I love this pussy,” but the words that fall out are different, raw, unfiltered.
“I love you.”
Her eyes fly to mine, startled, searching. The world stills, my heart hammering against my ribs. Then she whispers, voice trembling but sure:
“I think I love you, too.”
The air punches out of me. Whatever thin thread of control I was hanging onto disintegrates. I drive into her harder, faster, each thrust fueled by that confession, by the knowledge that shefeels it too. Our mouths crash together, messy and desperate, her moans filling me up as much as her body does.
Through my fog of desire, I hear footsteps pounding up the stairs, and then Norah’s voice rings out, loud and amused. “You filthy animals better get down here!”
Wren cries out, head falling back, body clenching around me, and I almost laugh even as I grit my teeth against the need to knot her.
“I’m coming!” she shouts back, voice breaking on the words.
“Yes, you are,” I groan into her ear, brushing my thumb over her clit, feeling her milk me as she comes again, pulsing around me so hard I must fight not to lose myself completely.
It takes everything I have to pull back before my knot forms, my body screaming for it, but I manage. Barely. I collapse against her chest, both of us gasping, her hands tangled in my hair.
After a moment, I drag myself up, grab tissues from the nightstand, and clean her gently, pressing soft kisses to her skin as I do.
She’s flushed, damp with sweat, her hair a wild halo around her face, and she’s never looked more perfect.
I help her into a clean pair of panties and back into her dress, smoothing the fabric down over her hips, fastening the clasp of her necklace again when it slips loose.
“How are you doing?” I ask quietly, brushing her cheek.
She meets my gaze, still breathless. “I’m okay.”
I hesitate, searching her face. “Do you… want to take back what you said?”
Her eyes soften, her hand cupping my jaw as she pulls me down for a kiss—slow, lingering, different from everything else we just did. “No,” she whispers against my lips. “I don’t.”
My still hard cock twitches, but I ignore it as I clean myself. What just happened between us is bigger than fucking.
It’s bigger than everything.
I love her… and she loves me too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
