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“Beck. It’s… it’s exactly what I wanted it to be.” It’s like he went inside my mind and found all my ideas and made them happen.
He grins. “Monroe told me about your Pinterest board.”
I’m almost speechless. I walk to him and twine my limbs through his. Close is not close enough, though.
“It’s so perfect.” I can’t stop gushing. I want to look at everything, but at the same time, I don’t want to stop looking at him.
He’s really everything I’ve ever dreamed a man could be. More than I ever thought I deserve.
The realization that I love him doesn’t come in pieces. It’s stark and fast, like a bullet. Just as dangerous. Every bit as scary.
I cup his face with my hand and try to say it with my eyes. He grins back down as he lays his hand over mine, turns his face into my palm, and presses a short kiss into the skin there.
“I never thought I wanted a family, Beck.”
“I didn’t, either.” He brushes my hair back off my forehead. “Until you. Now, I want it all. The house, the kids, rooms like this for each one.”
I gasp delightedly. “‘Kids’? Was that plural?”
“Five, ten. I’m not picky. So long as they have your eyes and your smile.”
I smack him on the chest. “I already told you, Beckett: I’m not birthing you your own hockey team. My body would never recover.”
“We’ll see about that.” He sinks to his knees, then pulls me down to the very plush rug. “Care to help me christen the nursery?”
I join him there and press my forehead to his. “If I ever say no to that, lock me up.”
With a sudden blur of motion, he flips me onto my back and positions himself on top of me. He’s all I can see, framed by the snowy white of the ceiling, with the tinkling glitter of the mobile rotating in the far corner of my vision. “I’m always going to make your dreams come true, Sloan. I promise.”
That’s enough for me. I rake my hands into his hair and pull him down for another kiss. We do just that for a few minutes, holding each other and stroking softly over our clothes.
The kisses start slow, tender almost, and gentle, and then after a few minutes, it’s like we’re the only people left in the world. The kisses get more intense, harder, boosted by emotion and feeling and sensation.
Propped up on one arm, he moves his opposite hand down to my belly, lifts the hem of my shirt, and uses his fingers to caress the skin over the waistband of my skirt. “I can’t wait to see your belly with my baby in it.”
I raise up enough to nip at his neck with my teeth. Laughing, he catches the back of my head and rolls us so I’m the one on top now. My tongue swirls with his, hands plunged into his hair while he coaxes my hips back and forth over his erection.
“Beck,” I whine, “I want you.”
He spreads my legs and pushes me upright, lifts my skirt and brushes the back of his finger over my clit through my panties. “You’re already so wet, angel.”
“Believe me—I’m aware. It’s a problem.”
He grins. “I think I might have a solution.”
I fumble for his belt, unfasten it, and yank it free. His grin stretches wider when I yank my shirt off and my bra along withit. He keeps one hand toying with my clit and the other pinches my nipple. My head falls back as the tension coils inside of me, begging to be released.
Then he turns us back over so I’m once again on my back and he’s between my legs, pushing my thighs apart.
“These fucking panties are in my way and I need you, Sloan.” Without waiting for permission, he rips them off, rough, hot, like he can’t wait another second. Then he shoves his pants down and pushes his cock inside me.
It’s the most glorious feeling in the world.
He lies still on me for a second, cock twitching inside my pussy. “I need to be here with you, inside you, always.”
He starts to move. Like the kisses, it’s slow at first. Then faster. Then faster still. His hips roll, swirl, thrust, and I’m writhing beneath him.
“Beck!” I want him to know how I feel, but I’m too captured in the moment to find the right words. Right now, all I can do is pant and twitch.
