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If she said it a million times, I’d never get sick of it.
My fingers work slowly through her folds, feeling the wetness, the fire, all the pent-up energy we’ve unloaded with our friction. I wait till she’s on the edge before I break down and say it.
I hold my lips to her ear, loving the way she always fights me by twisting her head.
“In case you didn’t figure it out yet, Delia, I fucking love you. I love you and I won’t stop.”
I don’t let her respond.
She clenches her jaw, trying her damnedest not to scream as I circle her clit, sending her over the edge into blinding ecstasy.
Somewhere in the maelstrom, my hand pulls away.
I flip her over, pin her hands over her head, and shove her legs up.
I go hard and deep, another storm of flesh somewhere between hyperconsciousness and pure dumb pleasure.
I can’t believe I said it.
Hell, I can’t believe I didn’t say itsooner.
If I can’t have her, I might drop dead of jealousy before any bullet ever finds me.
Thinking about letting her go off and live a rich girl life, finding some other bland asshole to sink his dick in, makes me want to start tearing the whole world apart.
I’m seething at all the boys I’ll never let her have—all the men I’ll beat the ever-loving fuck out of if they so much as sniff her.
She’smine,goddammit, and that’s never been truer than tonight.
I thrust harder for emphasis, savage long strokes to the hilt, my lust in full control.
“Fuck, babe, I’m coming!” I bow up and empty inside her.
She wraps her legs around me and screams, fighting to put her hands on my body, but I keep them pinned down.
I’ve laid my claim.
I’ve given it a voice, and I’m still not done.
Mine tonight. Mine tomorrow. Mine forever.
It’s like a mantra with a mind of its own, one that makes me harder, hornier, and so possessive. When we’re collapsed next to each other again, I reach between her legs and hold my seed inside her.
Fuck yes, I’ve lost it all.
I still don’t know how the hell we make this work.
But we will.
If I fail at keeping this magnificent woman in my life, then I’ve lost everything.
17
Dancing Gold Stars (Delia)
Summer drifts on in a haze of passion and tension.
I should be happy.
