She clenched around him, trying to draw him deeper, but his pace remained smooth and steady…
To start.
But it didn’t take long for his thrusts to lose their cadence. For his breathing to hitch. For the gently gliding motion to become choppy.
She didn’t care. It was still better than she remembered.
And what she remembered was great.
Taking advantage of her hands being free, she raked her nails down to his ass before reversing course and following the same path back up. If she left marks behind, so be it.
His grunts mingled with her moans.
Zeke paused only long enough to grab a pillow and stuff a corner of it into the narrow gap behind the headboard to keep it from slamming against the wall while he slammed into her.
When he covered her mouth with his hand to muffle the uncontrollable sounds escaping her, she sank her teeth deep into the meaty part of his palm.
His breath hissed from the sharp bite but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he kept pounding her. Faster. Harder. Driving his cock deep. Doing his best to nail her to the mattress.
“That pussy’s mine,” he growled. “Always been mine, Ky. No motherfucker has ever been in there but me and no one ever should be. All fuckin’ mine. Only mine.”
Every bone in her body melted at his possessive words. They also caused a rush of arousal.
He was correct that he was the first manshe’d ever had sex with. He was also right that he’d been the only man she’d been intimate with in all of her thirty-one years.
It had been Zeke and only Zeke.
But he couldn’t know that truth. Maybe he simply wanted to believe it.
However, he was so wrong about her pussy belonging to him.
He didn’t own it. He couldn’t stake that claim.
He could try, but would fail.
Her spine had strengthened and the steel barrier around her heart remained intact. If she had to, she’d find a way to reinforce both.
For herself. For Ledger.
“That’s my fuckin’ pussy. No one else’s. Hear me, Ky? No-fuckin’-body should’ve been in there but me.”
She should hate those very words.
Instead, she hated that she didn’t. Hated that the over-the-top possessive claim turned her on.
Hated that after all this time, a flicker of her love for him still existed. Despite dousing it. Despite all the shit he pulled.
Despite knowing it could happen again.
The DAMC president was a mess.
He was bad for her. For their son.
For her independence.
She knew it, but at that moment, she didn’t care. At that moment, she could forget the past. Ignore the future.
The night was strictly for them. The only two people in the room and no one else.
