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“I want you on your back,” he commanded. “Your ass is spectacular. And while I thoroughly enjoy fucking you from behind, there is absolutely nothing better than watching your face as you come on my cock. It’s so beautiful. The look of pure bliss in your eyes. The way you cry out. The feel of you.”
He lined himself up slowly, making me shake in anticipation.
“I need to see that. Need to see your gorgeous face. The way your eyes widen when I push inside you. The way you relax once you adjust to my size.” He spread my legs wide. “That’s a good girl,” he murmured, pushing into me one inch at a time. “Yes. Feel that? How perfectly we fit? This pussy was made for me, Parker.”
He began to move, slowly at first. But I needed more. I was already on the brink. So I bucked my hips against him as I cried out. “You’re so thick.”
His lips ghosted over my earlobe as he chuckled with pride. “Patience. I’m only getting started.”
Fuck. I dug deep for restraint and let him lead. Because if I had my way, I’d stay like this all night. Together, naked, joined, and fulfilled in every way.
He tilted his hips, changing the angle, and thrust deep, moving slowly while circling my clit with his thumb. The steady rhythm and the way his attention on me lit me up inside had my body flushed and ready in minutes. Primed for what I could only imagine would break me.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
Obediently, I took in his scruff, his dark eyes, and those broad lumberjack shoulders. I grabbed his perfect ass, delighting in the feel of his muscles clenching as he pistoned in and out of me.
My orgasm was gaining steam as he lavished attention on both my greedy nipples. The tension mounted as he pushed me higher.
“I dream about this.” He grunted. “Every single night. And I wake up every morning alone and hard and desperate for you.”
His confession was jarring, but it further fanned the flames in my core. “What do you do about it?”
“Fist my cock and think about fucking you. Fantasize about sliding in and out of you from behind. What you taste like when I eat your sweet pussy. I’ve been tortured, Parker. And it stops now. You’re mine. This pussy belongs to me. And that mouth. Oh fuck, that mouth.”
Every nerve ending in my body lit up as he spoke, and the combination of his thumb on my clit, his thick cock buried inside me, and the wordmineechoing between us sent me crashing over the edge.
I came hard and fast and loud, enjoying how his thrusts became jerky and uneven as I spiraled into bliss. He collapsed on top of me, still twitching inside me.
I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed, feeling the weight of what had passed between us. And then he kissed me softly before getting up to deal with the condom.
And as I watched him walk away, admiring the round globes of his ass, all I could think about was that word.Mine.
Chapter29
Pascal
“Coffee?” Parker had one hand on her hip and was tapping her foot. With a growl, I sidled up behind her and slapped her ass as she turned on the machine.
She danced around the kitchen, putting slices of bread into the toaster and leaving a pile of crumbs on the counter. For the first time, I was grateful for her hatred of bras. She looked really fucking good in my T-shirt and nothing else. So good I couldn’t remember why we had even ventured into the kitchen. Grabbing the hem of the shirt, I pulled her toward me and planted a sloppy kiss on her lips. For the first time since her arrival, I let myself acknowledge how much I liked having her here. How I looked forward to coming home, knowing she would be here with her girlie music and chaos.
I turned the coffee maker on, and she put a few slices of bread in the toaster. It was all very domestic and calming. Fuck. Who knew something so simple could make me so deliriously happy? Not that I would ever admit it out loud. Was this what had my brothers smiling all the time? Morning snuggles and making coffee in their underwear? Because it was kind of wonderful.
“Out of paper towels,” Parker said, removing the roll from the holder. “Are the extras in the basement?” She headed toward the door that led downstairs before I could stop her.
I froze, fear twisting my gut. Oh shit. She was going to run away screaming when she saw it.
She flipped the light on and plodded down the steps without looking back. Cringing, I shut off the sink and followed her, already sweating.
Her footsteps stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and she inhaled sharply. “What the fuck?”
I winced and hurried down, racking my brain for a way to explain without looking completely insane.
“Paz?” She was standing in front of a large steel rack—one of several, actually—that was carefully organized and labeled with supplies.
“You have a lot of stuff here.” She raised one eyebrow and crossed her arms. “It’s like a fucking Costco.”
“I like to be prepared,” I said lamely, studying my feet.
