He doesn’t make me beg twice.
He thrusts into me in one smooth, hard stroke, and we both cry out—lost in it, lost in each other, lost in the way it feels to start something new right here.
He sets the pace. Deep and dirty and slow, like he wants to leave his mark on these walls, on me.
“You’re mine,” he growls, thrusting harder now. “This room? This house? I’ll paint every damn inch of it with memories if it means keeping you here.”
I dig my nails into his shoulders, legs trembling around him, gasping his name over and over.
We come together like thunder, and when it’s over, he stays pressed to me, breathing hard, forehead resting against mine.
Neither of us speaks for a long moment.
Then he says, “Think that counts as christening it?”
I laugh softly, still dazed. “You planning on doing every room?”
“Oh, sugar.” He grins. “We’re just getting started.”
I’m still clinging to him when I hear it.
A click.
Then the unmistakable sound of the front door creaking open.
Will freezes. So do I.
And then?—
“Hello?” a woman’s voice calls. Bright. Professional. Too close. “Will? I just wanted to drop off the extra keys.”
Shit.
Will pulls out of me, and I scramble to get my shirt straight, hopping on one leg as I try to tug my underwear and shorts back into place. He’s doing the same, dragging up his jeans and muttering curses under his breath as we both trip over our tangled clothes and near-blown dignity.
“Back here,” Will shouts, breath still ragged. “One sec!”
I hiss, “One sec?! I am literally dripping?—”
He shoots me a wild-eyed look. “Would you rather I say two?”
I nearly choke trying to hold in a laugh.
The bedroom door creaks open just as Will swipes a hand through his hair, like that’s going to erase the sweat on his brow and the fact that his shirt is inside out.
The realtor, a polished woman in a turquoise blazer and heels that defy the flooring, smiles like she hasn’t just walked into the aftermath of a hurricane.
“Oh,” she says brightly, eyeing the two of us with the exact kind of knowing grin I want to melt into the floor over. “Hope I didn’t interrupt.”
Will clears his throat. “Just giving her the tour.”
Her eyes flick to my swollen lips, to Will’s still-unbuckled belt, and then back to his hand on my lower back.
“Uh-huh,” she says, all teeth. “Well. Don’t let me stop you. I left the packet on the kitchen counter. Take your time deciding. Though, from the looks of it…” Her grin widens. “You two already have.”
She turns and heads back down the hall, heels clicking as the door shuts gently behind her.
Silence.
