"Love this tight little cunt," he groans against my skin. "Love how you grip me when I’m balls-deep. Fuck, you’re dripping down my thighs already."
His rhythm stutters when I squeeze on purpose. He curses again, hips slamming harder, faster, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the dark corner.
"Come for me, Firecracker," he growls, hand sliding from my mouth to fist my hair, yanking my head back so he can bitemy shoulder. "Come while they’re all out there drinking and laughing fifty feet away. Let me feel this pussy milk me dry."
My whole body locks up. Heat coils tight in my belly then explodes. I shatter hard, thighs shaking, nails scraping the wall, muffled scream tearing out against my own arm. My vision whites out for a second, pussy pulsing around him, pulling him deeper.
He slams in one last brutal time, buries himself to the hilt, and comes with a low, guttural growl. Hot spurts fill me up, pulse after pulse. His hips jerk through it, grinding deep, keeping me pressed tight to the wall like he wants to stay buried inside me forever.
We stay locked together, both panting, my forehead pressed to the wood, his chest heaving against my back. His hand slides out of my hair, strokes down my spine slow and possessive.
"Love you," he mutters against my neck.
"Love you more."
He pulls out reluctantly, as warm cum trickles down my thighs. He helps me tug my jeans and panties back up, fingers lingering between my legs for a second, smearing us both. Then he kisses the ring on my finger, eyes dark and satisfied. "Let’s go back," he says, voice still rough. "I want them to see you glowing."
I nod, legs wobbly, thighs slick. He takes my hand, laces our fingers, and leads me out of the shadows toward the firelight and the noise. My jeans chafe against the mess between my legs, my lips are swollen, my heart’s hammering. And I don’t give a single fuck who notices.
We walk back hand in hand. My legs are jelly, my thighs slick, and I don't give a shit. The fire's still roaring. The music's loud. The club's still wild.
Bella spots us coming, smirks. "You two look guilty."
I drop onto the table beside her, legs dangling. "We are."
Sophie laughs. "Good. You deserve it."
Lucky pulls me back against his chest, arms around my waist, chin on my shoulder. His hand slips under my shirt and it rests warm on my stomach. I lean back into him, watch the fire, listen to the brothers laugh like men who finally buried their ghosts.
I still don't know exactly what went down with Brian. I probably never will. But tonight? Tonight I feel the relief in the air. I see it in Lucky's eyes when he looks at me. I feel it in the way he holds me like nothing's ever taking me away.
The fire’s throwing crazy shadows across everyone’s faces when I drop back onto the picnic table next to Bella. My legs are still shaky from the quickie behind the garage, thighs sticky, but I’m grinning like an idiot and I don’t care who sees it.
Bella clocks me first. Her eyes drop to my left hand where it’s resting on my knee. The diamond catches the firelight and throws little rainbows across the wood.
She freezes mid-sip. “Holy shit. Is that what I think it is?”
I don’t even try to play it cool. I lift my hand, wiggle my fingers so the stone flashes. “Yep.”
The table explodes.
Brooke practically lunges forward, grabs my wrist, yanks it closer to her face. “No fucking way. When? How? Tell me everything right now.”
Bri’s already leaning over Brooke’s shoulder, eyes wide. “That’s huge. Not huge-huge, but perfect-huge. Did he get down on one knee or just shove it on your finger like a caveman?”
Sophie jumps down from the crates so fast she almost trips over her own boots. “Move, bitches. Let me see!”
She shoves in between Brooke and Bri, snatches my hand, holds it up to the fire like she’s inspecting a diamond heist. “Jesus Christ, Sav. This is gorgeous. Simple but sexy. Exactly your vibe.”
Bella’s grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. “Okay, spill. When did this happen? Was it after he came home with bloody knuckles from your ex? Because that’s some romance-novel-level shit.”
I laugh, pull my hand back but let them keep staring. “It was the morning that doc gave him no restrictions. We were in bed, still sweaty from… you know. He reached over to the nightstand, pulled out the box like it was no big deal. Said he’d had it in his cut the night he got shot. Figured if he made it out alive he’d put it on me the second he could. Then he almost didn’t make it, so he wasn’t waiting anymore.”
Brooke makes this dramatic gasp. “He carried a ring into a gunfight? That’s insane. And hot. And insane.”
Bri nods. “Lucky’s always been quiet but when he commits? Full send. Did he say the words or just grunt ‘marry me’?”
I roll my eyes but I’m smiling so big my face aches. “He said it. ‘Marry me, Savannah.’ Not a question. More like an orderwrapped in velvet. Then he slid it on, kissed it, kissed me, and we went at it again like animals.”
