“You,” she gasps. “I belong to you.”
“Who’s gonna breed this pussy?”
“Oh, baby… you are…”
“Who’s gonna put a baby in you, Ina?”
She sobs. “You, Beau. You. Please…”
I slam deep. Once. Twice. Three more times. Grinding against her cervix. Watching her body shake …her ass rippling with every thrust, her shoulder blades flexing, her dark skin gleaming with sweat. Her mouth drops open. Her eyes roll back.Then she comes. Violently. Her whole body arching, clamping, milking me. And I follow with a roar, pumping into her so deep my vision goes black, filling her until she’s overflowing. Leaking around me. Dripping onto the sheets.
I collapse on top of her. Both of us wrecked. Drenched. Panting. My cock still buried inside her, still twitching. Her skin slick and hot under me. Her heartbeat hammering against my chest through her back.
“Jesus Christ,” she mutters into the pillow.
I kiss the back of her neck …tasting sweat. Her shoulder blade …feeling the bone under soft skin. That spot behind her ear …she shivers, even now, even destroyed.
“Still alive?” I ask.
“Barely.” She turns her head. One eye open. Her dark lashes clumped together. Her full lips, puffy and bitten. Looking thoroughly destroyed. “You’re an animal.”
“Your animal.”
“My animal,” she repeats softly. And there’s no sarcasm in it. Just warmth. Just truth. She shifts under me. Winces. “I’m going to walk funny today.”
“Good.”
“It’s NOT good.”
“It is from where I’m sitting.”
“You’re not sitting. You’re lying on top of me like a two-hundred-and-forty-pound heated blanket.”
I grin against her skin. “Two-thirty-five.”
“Get off me.”
She tries to shove me off. I don’t budge. She huffs. Then laughs. A full, gorgeous laugh that makes her whole body shake under me and reaches inside my chest and sets up permanent residence.
I finally roll off her. Pull her into my side. She curls against me …her cheek on my chest, her bare tit pressing soft againstmy ribs, her leg draped heavy over mine. Her hand comes to rest on my stomach, her small fingers tracing lazy circles through the trail of hair below my navel. I feel every pass of her fingertips. Every brush of her skin against mine.
Her body is warm and heavy and real against me, her breath evening out against my chest. Her scent everywhere …sugar and sex and sweat. My arm around her waist, my hand resting on the curve of her hip, my thumb stroking the soft skin there.
This, this right here. This is everything.
“Beau?” she says after a while. Her voice is soft. Her lips moving against my chest when she talks.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I’m sorry I went quiet on you.”
I tighten my arm around her. Press my lips to the top of her head …her braids soft against my mouth, her shampoo sweet in my nose. “I know what you were doing.”
“You do?”
“You were scared. You were protecting yourself. I get it. I’m not gonna punish you for having walls. Just gonna keep showing up, until you don’t need them anymore.”
She’s quiet for a long time. Her fingers stop moving on my stomach. Then she presses her face into my chest …I feel her eyelashes flutter against my skin, feel the warmth of her breath, feel something wet that might be tears …and takes a shaky breath.
