He scoops me up again—no ceremony this time—and the world tilts. The shower is forgotten. Then the mattress hits my back, and the air leaves my lungs in a soft gasp.
I blink up at him as he looms over me, wet hair, dark eyes, completely undone.
There’s no rush in his gaze now. Just intent.
Hands on my knees, he pushes them toward my chest, my soaked center completely exposed to him.
“Hold them open,” he instructs, his voice harsh with desire.
Then his head ducks between my legs. His hands lift my ass and his tongue slides over my pussy with long, flat strokes as he devours me.
He pushes a finger inside me, first one, then another, pumping and licking. My inner walls clench around him, and I gasp as I race toward my release. He pushes me to breaking point, clamping his lips around my nub, sucking on it hard and flickingit with his tongue. His fingers press on that spot inside me that has me splaying my knees even wider and arching my back.
But as I’m about to burst, bigger and louder than before, he removes his mouth and fingers.
I open my eyes to see him prowling up my body between my spread thighs. His beautiful gray eyes are wild and feral, his cheeks red, his lips parted as he pants.
The round, blunt pressure of his cock at my entrance pushes slowly upward, driving me wild. I jerk beneath him, dislodging him.
“Laney, for the love of God, hold still, or I’ll come before I get inside you.”
I release my knees and wrap my legs high around his hips, my hands clinging to his shoulders. I pull him toward me as I reposition, aligning him with my entrance again.
Daniel pushes forward quickly this time, thrusting forward through my swollen folds. An ache somewhere between pleasure and pain blooms as he stretches me, my body still adjusting to his girth and length.
He blankets me with his body, thrusting in deep. I shudder as his chest rubs my sensitive nipples and the hard ridge of his pelvis rides over my clit with each plunge of his hips.
“Daniel—”
“Give it to me, Laney. Give me everything.”
I do.
My body arches into his as I burst around him, my inner muscles clenching and pulsing around his shaft, milking him as hefollows me into bliss. He shouts my name as he stills inside me, planting himself deep as his climax barrels through him.
Our bodies move together with the aftershocks, our breathing labored.
Once the rush has subsided, Daniel lifts his weight off me, bracing himself on his elbows above me. I gaze up at him, tracing his features with my fingers, fascinated by my husband. When I reach his lips, he nibbles, then sucks the tip of one finger into his mouth.
“We’re truly married now, Mr. Sutton,” I whisper.
Something in me cracks the moment the words leave my mouth.
It’s small at first—a hitch in my breath, a tremor I can’t quite control. Daniel feels it immediately. His forehead rests against mine, his hands still warm and steady at my sides.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “Laney.”
I shake my head, trying to smile, but it wobbles. Ten years of holding it together—of being the strong one, the responsible one, the one who didn’t get to fall apart—come rushing up all at once.
“I’m sorry,” I say, even though I don’t know what I’m apologizing for. The tears spill anyway. Hot. Relentless. “I just?—”
He gathers me up without a word, rolling onto his side and pulling me with him, tucking my face into his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I cry then. Really cry. For our parents. For the nights I lay awake listening to Kitty breathe, terrified I’d miss something. For the jobs I took, the dreams I shelved, the constant math of rent andgroceries and medications andwhat ifs. For being eighteen and suddenly someone’s whole world.
“I was so tired,” I whisper into his skin. “I didn’t get to be tired. I didn’t get to stop.”
His arms tighten around me. “I know.”
