It wasn't a slide; it was an invasion. He was so thick it stretched me to my absolute limit. I gasped, my body feeling full, consumed. He pushedslow, inch by agonizing inch, until his hips bumped against mine with a solid thud.
"Fuck," he gritted out, his head falling forward onto my shoulder. "You are so tight. It clamps around me like a vice."
He stayed still for a moment, letting us adjust, letting the sensation of being connected sear into our brains. Then, he withdrew almost all the way, and slammed back in.
The sound was obscene—the slap of skin, the wet squelch of our bodies, the creak of the bed frame.
"Better than the Duke?" he growled in my ear, biting the lobe.
"Yes," I sobbed, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "Yes, God, yes."
He found a rhythm that was punishing and perfect. Fast, deep thrusts that hit my cervix and rubbed my clit simultaneously. He released my hands to slide his hand down between our sweating bodies.
"Come for me," he ordered, his thumb finding my swollen nub and grinding down.
That was the catalyst. The combination of his thick cock stretching me and his thumb rubbing me sent me over the edge.
My vision went white. I screamed his name, my body convulsing, my inner muscles milking him hard. I felt him stiffen, a guttural roar tearing from his throat as he slammed into me one, two, three more times, spilling himself deep inside the protection.
We collapsed together, a tangled mess of sweat, heavy limbs, and racing hearts. The air in the room felt even hotter, heavier, but infinitely better.
Beau lay heavily on top of me for a long time, his face buried in the crook of my neck, his breathing ragged. I traced the damp muscles of his back, my mind completely blank of everything but him.
Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling me into the curve of his body. He reached down to the floor, blindly searching until he found the Kindle. He tossed it onto the nightstand with a definitive thump.
"One star," he rasped, kissing my temple. "Plot was weak. Dialogue was terrible. But the interactive experience..." He squeezed my hip. "Five stars."
I laughed weakly, snuggling into his chest. "You're an idiot."
"Yeah, but I'm your idiot. And I'm much better than a Duke».
WINNIE
Morning wake up call
Pawhuska, Oklahoma
5:30 AM
"The cracks always start small, quiet—barely noticeable until they're not." – Unknown
***
I woke up to a heavy, dead weight across my stomach and a face buried in the crook of my neck.
For a split second, the morning haze held me captive—disoriented by the heat, the unfamiliar scent of musk and spice, and the solid wall of muscle pressed against my back. Then, reality crashed in. Oh.
Oh, hell yes.
A slow, wicked smile stretched across my face, even as my body protested with a delicious, heavy ache in places I hadn’t used in years. My inner thighs felt tender, my lips were swollen, and there was a soreness between my legs that was a glowing badge of honor.
I shifted slightly, and the arm around my waist tightened, pulling me back against a chest that rumbled with a deep, steady snore. Beau. In my bed. Taking up eighty percent of the mattress. His leg was thrown over mine, effectively pinning me down, claiming territory even in his sleep.
I turned carefully in his grip to face him. He looked younger like this—hair a chaotic disaster of blond curls, dark stubble dusting his jaw, mouth slightly open. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating the scratch marks on his shoulder.
Oops. I smirked. Sorry, not sorry.
Cassie was right. I hated admitting it, but she was right. I had been starving. I’d been walking around like a dehydrated cactus, and Beau Sterling was the thunderstorm I didn't know I needed. And now? Now that I knew what he could do with that mouth and those hands? There was no going back.
