Looking into her eyes, I thrust in. Not all the way, just to her barrier. That first tight, breathtaking clutch has me seeing spots.
Needing a distraction, I move my mouth to her throat, kissing the frantic pulse there before sucking hard, marking her. The word leaves me on a ragged breath, a fundamental truth. “Mine.”
I listen to her pant, the sound ragged in my ear. I pull out, just an inch, then give her another shallow, torturous thrust.
“You’re going to take all of my cock, aren’t you, Nova?”
She nods, her eyes overflowing with need, and wraps her legs around my waist, locking her ankles at the small of my back. The surrender, the invitation, is my undoing.
The next thrust is me bottoming out, burying myself to the hilt in one smooth, deep stroke. A broken groan is torn from my chest. Fuck. Her grip on me is nothing like my own fist. It’s so hot, so impossibly wet and tight, I’m already feeling the dizzying climb of my release.
Her hiss is enough to bring me back, to put my concern for her over myself.
“You alright?” I grind out, lifting high enough to take in her pinched expression.
She lets out a shaky breath and nods. “Move. Just… slow.”
Even though it’s absolute torture, I do. I rock into her, a slow, deep cadence that has me feeling every inch of her silken walls clutching around me. The wet sounds of our joining drive me crazy. I groan as she digs her nails into my back, a deep, welcome pain.
I still when she gasps, her eyes flying wide.
“No, don’t stop. Right there. Please, Mason. Rightthere.”
I oblige, shifting my angle just so, hissing as she finds a new grip, her nails dragging to scour down my back. I continue to thrust, hitting that perfect, deep spot inside her with every rollof my hips. A long, low moan leaves her lips, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
I can’t be slow anymore.
I thrust faster. Harder. The bed creaks, groaning in protest under the frantic, punishing rhythm. I fist the blanket next to her head, trying to ground myself, to hold on, but it’s useless. She is unraveling me, completely.
I pound into her, making her cry out my name with every drive of my hips. The room fills with the sounds of us—wet, slapping noises, my guttural curses, her sharp, pleading cries. I’m going to come. I know I am. The pressure is coiling, burning at the base of my spine. I want to bury myself so deep I become a part of her. I want to flood her, claim her in the most primitive way possible.
“Is this what you want, Nova?” I rasp, my voice strained as my hunger stains my words. “You want me to fill you up? Breed this perfect pussy?”
She doesn’t speak. She answers me with the frantic tightening of her legs around me, pulling me deeper, her hips meeting my every thrust. Even if I wanted to pull out, I don’t think she’d let me. The thought is enough to take me out.
Her voice hitches, and then she screams out as her climax rips through her. Her body clamps down on me in a vice-like grip, milking me, pulling the orgasm from my very soul. I thrust all but four more times before I bottom out again, burying myself as deep as I can go.
A roar tears from my throat as I come, my release pumping into her in hot, endless pulses, flooding her, claiming her, sealing the truth of my words deep inside her.
I don’t move. I can’t. I stay buried to the hilt, my body trembling with the force of it, making sure she takes every last drop. In a daze, I watch her stomach flutter with the aftershocks, knowing I’ve marked her, filled her.
Whatever happens, happens. But fuck, if somethingdoes, I know I’m going to latch the hell on.
By the way her hands move to her stomach, she must be thinking about it, too.
For a long moment, the only sound is our ragged breathing, syncing in the quiet.
Slowly, carefully, I ease my way out of her, the movement a tender echo of our previous frenzy. She makes a soft, protesting sound in the back of her throat, a sound that spears right through me. I don’t go far. I can’t. I shift my weight, bracing on my forearms to cage her in, and look down at her. Her eyes are hazy, her lips swollen from my kisses, her skin flushed with the heat we made together.
She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I lean down and brush my lips against hers. It’s not a kiss of passion, but of promise. A seal. When I pull back just enough to speak, my voice is rough.
“That memory,” I whisper, my thumb stroking her cheek. “The one I told you about.” I take a shaky breath, my eyes holding hers, ensuring she sees the absolute truth in them. “It’s gone. It’s just… gone. When I think about Christmas now, Nova… without a doubt… it’ll be this. You, here with me. Like this.”
Her eyes well with tears, but they don’t fall. Instead, a smile brighter than any parade float, any star on any tree, breaks across her face. It’s a smile of pure, unshadowed joy, and it’s meant only for me.
“Good,” she whispers, her voice thick. Her hands come up to frame my face, holding me with a tenderness that threatens to shatter what’s left of my heart. “That’s all I wanted, for you to have a memory that’s only yours. Only ours.”
