The words, the angle, the way he filled me so completely—it snapped something inside me. I came with a broken cry, clenching around him in hot, pulsing waves. He slammed deep one last time and followed, roaring my name as he spilled inside me, pulse after pulse, until we were both shaking.
When it was over, he collapsed to the side, pulling me with him so I was draped across his chest, still joined. He brushed the hair from my face and kissed my forehead. “Thank you, baby.”
I grinned, still breathless. “Pretty sure I’m the one who should be thanking you after that.”
He rolled me onto my back, already hardening inside me again. “Or you can show me your thanks when you’re ready.”
Ten minutes later, that was exactly what I did.
9
MICAH
She was curled into me like she was made to be there. Bare legs tangled with mine, soft ass pressed against my stomach, and her breath warm against my forearm where it wrapped around her chest. The comforter had slipped down, exposing her bare back and shoulder, and the first light of morning spilled in through the open blinds, painting her skin in pale gold.
My arm was half asleep, but I didn’t move. Couldn’t. Not when I had her like this. When I could still feel the phantom echo of her coming around me only a few hours ago.
She’d set her alarm before we passed out, something early and brutal because she’d taken the morning shift. I hadn’t argued. She needed to prove to herself that she could balance this life she was building. But that didn’t mean I was letting her wake up to a blaring fucking siren.
So when the clock hit one minute to six, I reached over her and killed the alarm with one quick tap.
Then I rolled on top of her.
She stirred beneath me, shifting slightly, a sleepy sound catching in her throat. I braced my weight on my elbows and kissed her, slow and deep. Her lips were soft, warm, and stillswollen from everything I’d done to her last night. And again, when I’d woken up sometime before dawn, hard and aching, needing her like air.
It had taken me just a moment to realize that she wasn’t a dream. I didn’t have to ease my aching cock with an ice-cold shower. Instead, I’d kissed her neck, jaw, and mouth until she moaned in her sleep and opened for me. No condom. No hesitation. Just bare, raw heat as I pushed inside and lost myself.
Probably shouldn’t have done that…three times. Especially since she’d been a virgin. I doubted she was on birth control. But I couldn’t seem to remember the condom until I was deep inside her, and by then, I was past the point of pulling out and wrapping up. Truthfully, just the thought of something between us made me want to beat the shit out of something. And the thought of knocking her up hadn’t exactly deterred me either.
Now her eyes fluttered open, hazy and dark with sleep.
“Morning, baby,” I whispered against her mouth.
She smiled shyly, her cheeks blooming with a pretty pink color.
It fucking wrecked me. That she could look adorable and devastating in the same breath. That she was in my bed. In my arms.Mine.
I kissed her again, this time on the tip of her nose, then her jaw, then trailed lower, just far enough to earn a shiver before I forced myself to pull back.
“Time to get up,” I said reluctantly as I climbed off the mattress.
She groaned and buried her face in the pillow. I let myself really look at her naked body stretched across my sheets, then forced myself into motion before I lost all self-control and dragged her under me again.
I made her breakfast. Eggs, toast, fruit, and a cup of coffee with cream and one sugar, just how she liked it. She padded out of the bathroom in one of my T-shirts, hair damp from the shower, her scent mixing with the aroma of food and coffee in a way that made my cock twitch.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she murmured, tying her hair up with a loose band.
“You bake for me. I cook for you. That’s how this works.”
She gave me a look that said she didn’t believe that for a second. “I think it’s supposed to be something about one person cooks and the other cleans.”
I shrugged. “I was paraphrasing.”
Sliding onto one of the barstools at the island, she looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Then who cleans?” I opened my mouth, but she held up her hand as realization dawned on her face. “Don’t say it.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you that someone comes in to clean and straighten the apartment every day.”
She shook her head, clearly exasperated, then took a bite of her eggs. After eating for a few minutes, her forehead puckered, and she glanced at me sitting on the stool next to her, drinking a protein shake.
