“So fucking perfect,” he murmured. “Always so wet for me.”
He dragged a single finger through my slick heat, then lifted it to his mouth, tasting me. His eyes darkened. “You taste so damn good.”
My breath hitched. The way he looked at me—like he owned me—sent a shiver down my spine.
I smirked. “Are you gonna just stare at it all day, or fuck me?”
His gaze snapped to mine, a wicked grin curling his lips. “Just for that, you get no mercy.”
His sweatpants hit the floor, his cock springing free, thick and pulsing. My mouth watered at the sight—at how hard he was for me.
Then, without warning, he slammed into me, and I gasped,gripping his shoulders. I spread my legs wider, adjusting to his size as pleasure pulsed through me.
Nick moved with raw intensity, his grip on me unyielding. His hands caught my wrists, pinning them above my head as he thrust into me with punishing force.
Each snap of his hips sent sparks through my veins, the friction unbearable, intoxicating. His hand slipped between us, rubbing tight circles against my clit.
“Say it,” he growled, voice thick with need.
I moaned, arching into him. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
“Who makes you feel good, princess?”
I gasped, my back arching. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
Nick’s jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his temple as he fucked me harder, deeper.
“You’re mine,” he growled. “Say my name when you come on this cock.”
I was unraveling, the pressure building fast, my body strung so tight I thought I’d break.
“I’m so close,” I gasped.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Tell everyone who this belongs to, princess.”
His fingers moved faster, his thrusts hitting deeper, and then—everything shattered.
I screamed his name, my body convulsing as I came undone around him. He groaned, his rhythm faltering as he followed, spilling into me with a guttural growl.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. My limbs were heavy, my breathing uneven.
Nick brushed damp hair from my face, his touch surprisingly soft. “I’ve got you, Mel.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Promise?”
He cupped my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I swear on everything.”
And for the first time, I actually believed him.
It’s been hours. Hours of silence, of waiting, of my mind playing cruel tricks on me. I thought reading would help distractme, but I’ve read the same page at least ten times, and not a single word has stuck. Nick had left earlier to go shooting with some friends—Alexa included. I never knew he did that, but he said it was a good way to blow off steam, almost like therapy. At first, he thought it would trigger his PTSD, but instead, it gave him control, a way to channel everything boiling under the surface. I had stayed behind, just in case my mom called or showed up. But now, sitting here drowning in my thoughts, I wish I had gone with him.
With a frustrated sigh, I toss my Kindle onto the nightstand and sprawl out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. My mind won’t stop. The past few months play on a loop, every fight, every secret, every moment of doubt. Some days, I think Nick and I have something real. Other days, I remind myself that this has an expiration date. And when that day comes? What then? Go back home and face my mother, who now knows everything. Pretend none of this ever happened?
A sharp knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. My body feels heavy as I drag myself off the bed and down the stairs. When I open the door, my mother is standing there in the same clothes she had on this morning, her face pale and drawn.
“Mom, how d?—”
She doesn’t say a word. She pushes past me and rushes to the bathroom. A second later, I hear the unmistakable sound of her throwing up. I close the door and head into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water while Loco trails behind me, his tail low. The toilet flushes—once, twice—before she finally emerges. She looks exhausted as she lowers herself onto the couch beside me.
