The only sound left is the rasp of our breathing and the sharp, wet slap of skin on skin as Will keeps driving into me, like he’s trying to fuck every trace of doubt out of me.
“Mine,” he growls again, voice low and savage in my ear. “Every fucking inch of you.”
I gasp, clinging to him, my legs wrapped tight around his waist. I can’t speak. I can barely think.
“You think Nash could ever touch you like this?” he bites out, thrusting harder. “Make you this fucking wet just from his voice?”
“Will—” I whimper.
His hand slides down, fingers pressing against my clit, circling mercilessly. “I should’ve done this the second you madethat list,” he mutters. “Should’ve put a baby in you before you ever thought about running.”
My body jerks. My nails dig into his back.
He sees it. Feels it.
And fuck, he leans in more.
“You like that, yeah?” he growls, voice all gravel and heat. “Like the idea of me coming inside you, so deep it sticks?”
“God—Will—” I gasp, breath breaking.
“That’s what you need, isn’t it?” he hisses, biting at my neck. “To be full of me. Dripping. Walkin’ around with my baby in your belly so everyone knows exactly who fucked you right.”
I moan loud, high, and helpless as I arch into him, every muscle tight and straining.
He grins against my throat, cock pulsing harder inside me.
“Bet you’d look so damn good knocked up, all swollen and needy, still beggin’ me to fuck you through it.”
I cry out his name, back arching, and he pounds into me faster, rougher.
“I’ll give it to you, sugar,” he groans, voice fraying. “Gonna come so deep you’ll feel me for days.”
And when I shatter, it’s not a slow fall. It’s a goddamn free-fall, my body clenching around him so tight it drags him over the edge with me.
He curses into my neck as he spills inside me, his body jerking, pressing me down into the mattress like he’s anchoring himself to the only thing that makes sense.
Me.
When it’s over, he doesn’t pull out.
Doesn’t move.
He just stays there, buried inside me, breath shaking against my skin, his voice wrecked as he murmurs, “I’ll put a ring on you before I put a baby in you.”
And something deep in my chest aches. Because that’s what I want, too, I’m just too scared to say it.
The next morning, Will grabs my hand as I pad past the couch, pulling me onto his lap. We’re both naked, which is how we spend most mornings.
“Come here,” he says.”
I go easily, straddling him, and his mouth is already on my throat, tongue tracing that sensitive spot just below my ear.
“Still thinking we should wait to tell Sam, sugar?” he murmurs against my skin, voice dripping with challenge.
My breath hitches. “That depends.”
“On what?”
