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“I love you, Quinn Berkeley,” I answer breathlessly.
“I love you too. This changes everything. You belong to me. And I”—he scoops a hand under my belly, coaxing me to my hands and knees—“belong to you.”
His possession is what I want because I feel every word.
He continues sinking into me, gripping my ass and spreading me wide. I lose myself to this feeling of completeness, and when Quinn reaches around and plays with my clit, I let go and come with a guttural groan.
Tears sting my eyes as I arch my back, my body milking every tremor. I still bounce back however, taking everything Quinn gives as he continues to pump into me, drawing out every last vibration.
“Fucking beautiful,” he hums before pulling out, and I feel his warm jets on my ass.
I collapse into a loud, messy heap, too sated to move as I close my eyes, basking in my post-orgasmic bliss. My lungs feel like they’re about to explode, and my heart kicks against my rib cage, threatening to break free, but I wouldn’t change this feeling for anything.
After a few moments, I feel a light flutter on my back and turn over my shoulder to see Quinn cleaning me up.
We both watch one another closely, and where I thought there would be embarrassment or shyness over what we just did, I find nothing but love. And we don’t speak for minutes because there are simply no words.
It’s dawn when I finally rouse, sore but sated. The delicious burn between my legs is a wonderful reminder of what Quinn and I just did.
Flickers of our naked bodies becoming one overwhelm me, and I clench my inner thighs as I’m turned on all over again by the memory alone. I never thought it could be that way with someone, and I’m afraid that now that I’ve experienced this, I won’t be able to stop.
I’m addicted to Quinn, but after tonight, I’m a full-blown junkie waiting for my next fix.
“You okay?”
My body hums the second I hear his voice, and my memories magnify, spreading animated warmth over my entire body.
“I’m good,” I finally reply, turning to face Quinn, and he looks fucking epic.
His hair is wild and freshly fucked, and his eyes are all sleepy and heavy. But it’s his mouth that has me mesmerized. The way it tips up into a dimpled smirk tells me he’s been thinking the same thoughts as me.
Brushing a fallen piece of hair off my brow, he smiles.
“How long have I been asleep?” I ask with a yawn.
“A couple of hours. You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You do realize that’s creepy, right?” I tease. “You’ve just upped the stalker ante to full-blown creeper.”
I like that there’s no awkwardness between us because, for me, this only brings us closer.
“What’s the matter, Berkeley? No comeback?” I squeal when he pushes me down quickly, catching me unawares.
Pinning my arms about my head and securing my wrists in one hand, he begins tickling me with the other.
“Quinn!” I say, laughing so hard I almost choke. “Truce!”
“I don’t think so.” He continues torturing me until I wheeze and gag.
“You’re so mean.” I breathlessly laugh when he releases my wrists.
“Oh, Red, I can be so much meaner.”
We’re both breathing rapidly from our impromptu play fight.
It’s only now that I’m not squirming and begging for him to stop do I realize I’m lying under a very naked Quinn, my very naked chest pressing against his. But any shred of modesty was lost when I stripped bare in front of him as he bared me his soul.
And I like that.
