I reach my hands beneath her chest and cup her breasts. Her hard nipples poke through the fabric of her dress, and I tug on them, savoring her sharp gasp.
“That’s it. Fuck, you’re doing so good.”
I pick up the pace, slamming into her, letting every feral instinct overtake my body.
“You’re mine, beautiful girl. All mine.”
“Yes…” she whines. “Flint, I’m gonna come.”
“Good girl. Come on my cock.”
Willa does as she’s told, trembling against the desk as she comes undone. Her walls throb, squeezing my cock until it explodes, drawing a deep groan from my chest as I spill my cum inside her.
“Fuck yes…”
We stay still for a moment, catching our breath. Then I slide out of Willa and spin her around to face me, my chest jolting at the satisfied smile on her lips.
“You like that, princess?”
She nods, grinning at me. “Who says admin work is boring?”
I huff out a laugh. Then I kiss her, long and slow, threading my fingers through her hair. She kisses me back, her mouth moving against mine, and everything falls away.
All that matters is Willa.
My beautiful Willa.
She has become my whole world—my purpose—and I still can’t figure out how I ever lived without her. How did I ever think the life I lived before her was enough?
I pull back to look at her, staring into those bright blue eyes, and it hits me all over again…
This angel is mine.
And I’m never letting her go.
EPILOGUE
WILLA
The morning lightspills soft and gold across Cherry Mountain, filtering through the tall pines and turning Sugar Creek to glitter. I stand by the water, breathing in the crisp, fresh air. It’s so quiet up here. All I can hear is the light sway of branches in the wind, the distant call of birdsong.
It’s nothing like the quiet of my old apartment.
The pressing silence that used to squeeze my chest tight and remind me of how alone I was.
This is a different kind of quiet. Peaceful. Almost dream-like.
Then a loud crack echoes through the trees and pierces the calm like a gunshot. The sound of an axe cutting through wood. I smile at the noise. It sounds like my husband is nearby. He rarely strays far from the cabin these days—his protective instincts won’t let him. Heck, I’m used to being the overthinker with a brain that won’t shut off, but ever since I got pregnant, Flint has lost his mind…in an endearing kind of way.
Let me do that, Willa.
Don’t get up, princess.
You don’t need to walk to the bathroom. I can carry you.
He said that last one this morning, and I grin as I remember the earnestness in his voice. I wrap his huge shirt tighter aroundme. It smells like him—pine and woodsmoke—the flannel hanging loosely over my bump.
Seven months.
