Being my best friend.
My lover.
My world.
I don’t care if she wants a dozen dogs who hate me. I don’t care if Tater Tot has colic and doesn’t sleep. I don’t care if Ziggy quits cooking.
I just want tobe.
I want to be with her.
The woman who’s brought me out of the fog I’d been living in, looking for a way to run away from the pain instead of working through it, the way she’s been working through losing her best friend.
Her body sags beneath me. “Holt?” she whispers.
“Yes, kitten?”
“That was—the best—ever—and I want—you—inside me—now. Please.”
I lift my head and watch her chest rising and falling rapidly under my jersey as she pants and tugs on my ears. “Already?”
“Now,” she repeats.
Still a pain in the ass to move in the boot, but I pull myself up her body, pushing my jersey out of the way so that I can kiss that swelling belly that I love so much, her bellybutton, her breastbone, sucking on one nipple, then the other as she wraps her legs around my hips and tilts them up to brush the tip of my cock.
I slide into her swollen, hot, wet center, and my eyes cross.
“Oh god, yes,” she gasps.
I can’t imagine going a second round immediately after the first the way she is, but I stroke in and out of her, my balls getting hot and heavy and tight with every moan and whimper out of her mouth.
She arches her head back and tightens her legs around me while I slam into her, harder and faster, following the cues from her cries andyeses andtheres until her pussy clenches around my rock-hard cock, and she’s gasping my name again, straining into me while her inner walls pulse around me, gripping me tightly as I let my own release go.
I’m wrapped in Ziggy, the fabric of my jersey bunched up over her breasts, her breath hot on my shoulder as she pants while her body sags under me.
She’s everything.
Every fucking thing.
“I love you,” she whispers. “My god, I love you so much.”
I kiss her neck and she shivers.
“I love you too,” I whisper back.
I do.
I love her with everything inside me. I love her with everything outside of me.
I love her with the whole universe.
“When…baby comes…harder…do this,” she pants.
“Ziggy. I love you for so much more than how good the sex is.”
The woman hugs me even tighter.
With her arms. With her legs. With her face pressed to my shoulder, kissing me between gulps of air.
