“Your turn,” she says again, softer.
Three years. Three fucking years of muffins and oil changes and showing up to every goddamn town meeting, just to watch her wave that clipboard around. Three years of being the funny guy, the friend, the one she could count on to make her laugh but never to make her stay.
I’m done being patient.
“Don’t wait up,” I tell Milo and Elijah, pulling her toward the hallway.
The guest room smells like sex. Like her and Milo. Like the beginning of everything I’ve wanted. I close the door behind us and press her against it, my mouth finding hers before she can speak.
She tastes like Milo. Like herself underneath. Like three years of wanting finally coming true.
“Ben...” she gasps against my lips.
“Three years.” I bite her lower lip, suck it into my mouth. “Three years of watching you stress yourself into the ground. Three years of you yelling at me about volunteering.”
“You never volunteered...”
“I was busy.” I drag my mouth down her throat, careful to avoid Milo’s mark. “Falling in love with you. Jerking off thinking about you. Imagining what sounds you’d make if I ever got my hands on you.”
Her breath catches. “Ben...”
“Do you know how hard it was?” I find that spot below her ear, the one that makes her shiver. “Showing up every day, making you laugh, going home alone to fuck my fist because I couldn’t have you?”
“You can have me now.” Her voice is breathy, desperate. “Please, Ben. I need...”
“What do you need?” I bite her earlobe. “Tell me.”
“You. All of you. Please...”
I find the buttons of Elijah’s flannel and rip it open. Buttons scatter across the floor. She gasps.
“I’ll buy him a new one,” I mutter, pushing the fabric off her shoulders.
She’s naked underneath—Milo didn’t bother redressing her—and the sight of her hits me like a punch to the gut. Soft curves and flushed skin and that bite mark on her throat that means she’s pack now.
Mine next.
“Beautiful,” I breathe. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Your turn.” She’s tugging at my shirt. “Need to feel you...”
I strip so fast I nearly trip over my own jeans. She laughs, bright and surprised, and the sound makes me grin even as my cock throbs.
“Shut up,” I tell her. “I’m eager.”
“I can see that.” Her eyes drop to my cock, hard and flushed and leaking at the tip. She licks her lips. “Impressive.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” I lift her—she wraps around me automatically—and carry her to the bed. “But right now it’s gonna get you bonded.”
I drop her on the mattress and follow her down, settling between her thighs. The heat of her against my cock makes us both groan.
“Ben... please...”
“Please what?” I rock against her, sliding through her slick. She’s soaked. Dripping. I can feel it coating my cock. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“I need...” She’s arching up, trying to get me inside her. “Need your mouth. Your cock. Something. I’m so empty...”
“Already?” I grin against her throat. “Milo just had you.”
