Page 45 of Smoky Darling


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Beckett

I expect her to argue.To resist this pull between us. But without a word she melts into my side.

There’s no tenseness.

No awkwardness.

Just… comfort.

Every moment with Elouise feels more and more like I’m home. And I feel like I should be surprised, but there’s just something about us that makes sense.

Her body softens against me even more, and her breathing changes. And just like that, she’s asleep in my arms.

I stare up at the ceiling of the tent, wondering what my next move should be. I didn’t really have a plan when I came back to Darling Lake last week. But now… fuck, now I can’t tell if I’m thinking with my brain or my dick. Am I just jumping to decisions about my future because I want to be buried into Elouise’s sweet little pussy?

My fingers tense around the soft skin of her upper arm and my cock hardens.

I shift. I won’t be able to fall asleep with a raging hard-on. And I can’t exactly jerk one off laying right here next to Elouise.

Think unsexy thoughts.

Poison Ivy rashes.

Bear attacks.

First Aid techniques.

Elouise.

My fingers brushing against her soft skin.

Her asking me to“take it off”.

“Goddamnit,” I grumble into the darkness as Little Beckett strains to punch through the sleeping bag.

When was the last time I was this turned on? This hard over a few innocent touches and glances? Over fucking cuddling?

Probably when I was a fucking teenager. I almost laugh, that’s what the little minx in my arms has reduced me to. A hormonal teenager.

Fitting.

I pull her even closer.

Whatever this is, I’m not done yet.

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