Page 107 of I Wish You Were Mine

“All day. I’ve been ready all day, Tuck.”

He reaches inside his briefs and releases himself. Like the rest of him, his dick is beautiful. A single, pulsing vein runs up the side. His head is pink velvet, topped by a pearl of precum.

He swipes at it with this thumb. “How the trouble began.”

“Are you sorry?”

“Sorry you got pregnant?”

“Sorry any of this happened.”

He searches my face for a long beat before bringing his thumb to my mouth. “Open.”

I do as he tells me and suck on the pad of his thumb. His salty taste causes a rush of saliva to my mouth.

Then he’s leaning down, neck slanting at an angle that makes my stomach hurt with want, and he kisses me. My taste mingles with his as our mouths move.

“There is nothing,” he whispers, “more delicious than you. I’m not sorry, Tiny.” He lines himself up at my entrance. “I’m not sorry we danced.” He pushes inside. “I’m not sorry we slept together.” There’s a sharp stretch as he pushes farther and brushes his nose against mine. “I’m not sorry we made a baby. I don’t regret a damn thing.”

The tears come in a sudden, hot rush. I close my eyes and surrender. I let him sink deep inside me. I let him kiss me senseless while he moves, surrounding me with the heat of his body.

Surrounding me with his certainty. It’s a soft place to land. I wrap my arms around his neck and let him hold me there, our bodies moving in tandem. This angle provides some friction, but not enough to get me where I need to go. I rock more ardently against his thrusts, feeling like I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t come.

“I can’t,” I manage. “Tuck,please, I can’t?—”

“Yes you can.” Tuck’s fingers find my pussy. “Hold on to me. That’s it, that’s how you let me make you feel good. You’re doing so good, Tiny. You feel so fucking good.”

He rolls the pad of his thumb over my clit. The same thumb I just had in my mouth.

The muscles in my legs spasm. The pressure steals the breath from my lungs. Half a heartbeat later, the collision comes, a meeting of body and mind and light that cracks open the lockbox of my heart for good.

I’m yours.

For as long as Tuck will have me, I’m his.

He curls around me as I ride out the orgasm. I feel myself contracting around his length, and he bites my cheek as he growls, “See? The way you feel. I’ve never felt it. Nothing like it, Tiny. One in a million.”

Even through the pounding rush of bodily sensation, his words hit.

They hithard. My heart is a puddle, soaking my insides with a potent mix of joy and fear.

Does that mean what I think it does?

Is this wildly handsome, kind, generous, genuine man actually falling for me too?

His kiss is messy now. So are his strokes. I hold on to him, offering my body to him the way he offered his to me. I kiss his neck. Graze his nipples with my fingertips.

He comes and shouts my name. I cover his mouth with my hand. He bites my palm, and I feel him spilling inside me.

I hope we didn’t wake Katie.

I hope we can do this again. All night. The evening’s disappointments are a distant memory with Tuck wrapped around me.

Tonight’s wins, though, are front and center, a shimmery news tape that loops through my head.

With all due respect. One in a million. Good girl. I don’t regret a damn thing.

Something is happening here. Something big and beautiful and, well, terrifying because it’s big and beautiful and new.

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