Page 55 of Wild Promise

“Please, I need you inside me.”

“I need that too,” he said against my skin, his breath ragged. “So fucking much, it scares me.” He paused, pressing his forehead to my sternum. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Don’t overthink it.” I dragged my nails up his back. “Just fuck me like you mean it.”

“Come here.” He surged up to capture my mouth, and the kiss was so deep and consuming it felt like falling. Then, with a slow, controlled thrust, he pushed inside me.

A bite of pain caught me—three years had been too long—but he held still, his arms trembling with the effort, giving me time to adjust. The sting gave way to a deeper, fuller sensation, and when my hips rocked up against his, the pleasure that rolled through me was blinding.

His hands gripped my hips. My nails dug into his ass. And when he started to move, the moan that ripped out of me was something almost feral.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he ground out between thrusts. “So tight. So fucking wet.” His hips punched forward, harder, deeper, and I arched off the bed to meet every one. “I’m never going to get enough of this. Of you.”

“Harder,” I gasped, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. “Don’t hold back.”

He didn’t. His pace shifted from controlled to ruthless, his body slamming into mine with an intensity that rattled the headboard. And through it all—every grunt, every groan, every bruising thrust—he praised me.

You’re so beautiful. So good. You take my cock so fucking well. All the dirty, filthy, beautiful things he said. I didn’t stand a chance.

I came so hard my entire body seized. My back bowed off the bed, my thighs clamped around him, and the scream that tore out of me was raw and loud and completely beyond my control.

But there was no coming down from that high.

He moaned as I clenched around him, his rhythm faltering. “Fuck. Again.” He shifted the angle of his hips and pressed his thumb against my clit, rubbing in tight circles while he continued to drive into me. “Give me one more before I come.”

I was already gone. His words, his hands, the relentless pressure of his cock hitting that spot deep inside me. It was too much. But it was his eyes that finished me. The way he looked at me like I was something rare. Something worth fighting for.

And in that moment, I could almost believe I was. He made me feel it. Trust it.

Another wave crashed through me, this one slower and deeper, rolling through my entire body and pulling a sound from my throat that was half sob, half moan.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he groaned, and it sounded like a prayer. The veins in his neck strained as he shuddered over me, his orgasm chasing mine, his hips jerking hard against me as he came.

He collapsed, rolling to his side and taking me with him, our bodies still connected.

We lay in silence, the only sound our ragged breathing, and the quiet tick of icy snow against the window. The weight of the moment caught me off guard, and unexpected tears gathered and fell before I could stop them.

Not sad tears. Not even happy ones, exactly. They were from holding everything together for so long that the relief of finally letting go was too big to contain.

“Hey.” He cupped my face and gently slipped out of me, his thumb brushing a tear from my cheek. “What’s this? Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head, my throat too tight to explain.

“Wait here,” he said, covering me with the sheet and kissing the tip of my nose. “I’ll be right back.”

When he returned a moment later, I was still wiping my face, but my tears dried when he landed on the bed beside me with the entire tub of cookies in his hand.

“I’m not sure anything could top sex like that, but how about a snickerdoodle?”

Chapter Twenty

Zane

When I woke the next morning with Melina in my arms, I thought I was dreaming. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d imagined her in my bed, snuggled up next to me. But she rolled toward me, slinging her arm across my chest so her magnificent tits pressed close, and reality sank in.

She was here. In my bed. And she was mine.

At least, for now.