“Work can wait.” His thumb drags across my bottom lip, and my knees soften. “This can’t.”
“Then let’s go home.” He releases me and turns me to face him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. “We’ll come back and finish this later. Right now, I need you alone.”
The intensity in his voice makes my pulse kick. I grab my bag and keys, and he follows me out. He locks the door behind us with the spare key I gave him days ago, and the casual domesticity of the gesture makes my ribs feel too small to contain what I’m feeling.
The drive to his cabin takes twenty minutes. I count every one. His hand stays on my thigh, and when he parks, I’m already reaching for him.
We barely make it through the door. He backs me against the wall, his body pinning mine, and his mouth finds my neck. His teeth graze my earlobe, and I arch against him with a noise caught between desperation and need.
“I love you,” he says into the curve of my neck, lips brushing skin. “I should have said it yesterday instead of pulling away.”
“Tell me that again.” My hands slide under his shirt, nails dragging across the muscles of his back.
“I love you, Tilly.” He lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. “I love you so much it scares me.”
“Don’t be scared.” I frame his face with my hands. “I’m not going anywhere, and I love you, too.”
He lifts me and carries me through the doorway, setting me on the bed with careful hands. The light slants gold through the window. He strips my coat away, then my sweater, his hands gentle on my skin.
“You’re beautiful,” he says. The worship in his voice makes belief feel inevitable.
He reaches behind me with steady hands, unhooks my bra, and draws the lace away like unwrapping something sacred. My breasts spill free. They’re heavy, nipples already straining toward him. He exhales, palms rising to cradle their weight. Helifts my breasts, thumbs sweeping the soft undersides, savoring the plush feel before his mouth descends toward me.
His lips close around one peaked nipple in a slow, enveloping heat that makes my toes curl. He draws me deep, tongue lashing in firm, rhythmic strokes while his other hand kneads the opposite breast. His fingers spread wide to encompass as much softness as possible, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger with exquisite, twisting pressure. The dual assault sends lightning straight to my pussy. My back bows sharply off the bed as a raw, unfamiliar moan rips from my throat.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against my skin, the vibration traveling through me like a current. “Let me hear you.”
He switches sides without haste, lavishing the neglected breast with the same unhurried devotion. His long, wet pulls are like electricity through my veins, while his tongue swirls tight circles around my areola before flicking the nipple relentlessly. His free hand traces the generous swell of the first breast, cupping its fullness, thumb brushing feather-light over the glistening peak he just left aching and flushed. Pleasure radiates outward in pulsing waves; my hips rock upward instinctively, seeking friction that isn’t there yet.
The wet heat of his tongue flattens against my nipple, pressing hard, then drags in slow, deliberate sweeps that make me cry out. He doesn’t rush. Each stroke is deliberate, claiming. My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to me while pleasure spirals through my nervous system. Finally, he releases me with a soft pop, both nipples dark and swollen from his attention.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my jeans and eases them down along with my underwear, peeling the fabric away inch by inch until I’m completely bare. His hungry gaze roams over me, once again taking in the full roundness of my hips, the plush thickness of my thighs, the inviting softness between.
He kisses a line from my neck to my chest, pausing to nuzzle the deep valley between my breasts, then lower to map the soft, rounded plane of my stomach with his lips. His hands follow, palms gliding over the lush curve of my waist, thumbs pressing into the gentle dip above my hips like he’s memorizing every place my body yields.
“Spread your legs for me,” he says. My pussy throbs at the command.
I spread them, knees falling open in surrender. He settles between my thighs, broad shoulders nudging them wider. His breath fans hot across my pussy, making me shiver.
“I’m staying,” he says, looking up at me with eyes gone molten. “I’m staying, and I’m yours, and I need you to know that.”
“I know.” My voice comes out thin. “Show me.”
His mouth descends on my pussy without hesitation. The first long, firm glide of his tongue on my clit steals my breath. He tastes me like I’m the only thing that matters. He groans low at my flavor, the sound rumbling straight through my pussy. His strong hands grip my thighs, holding me wide while his tongue works devastating magic.
He circles my clit with teasing spirals, then flattens to lap with slow pressure that makes my hips jerk. He savors every response, dipping lower to thrust inside me, curling to stroke my sensitive walls before returning to pulse my swollen clit between his lips. The pleasure coils tighter, hotter; my fingers fist in his hair again as my thighs tremble around his head.
“Davin,” I gasp. “I need you inside me—”
“I know, darling.” He pulls back just enough to speak, lips glistening. “You need to feel me claim you.”
“Yes.” The word breaks on a sob. “Please.”
He rises to his knees and strips off his jeans and boxers. The sight of his thick, hard cock makes my hands shake. Muscle shifts under his scarred skin as he returns to me, settlingbetween my thighs once more. His cock’s broad head nudges my entrance, slick and insistent.
“I love you,” he says, eyes locked on mine. “And I’m going to prove it every day for the rest of our lives.”
He pushes inside inch by thick inch, stretching me open with perfect, burning fullness. When he’s buried to the hilt, we both slow, breathing ragged. He lowers his forehead to mine; I feel the tremor in his frame, the warmth of his exhale against my lips before I draw it in. My clit throbs with need, and I grind against him.
