Need to know I’m not the only one losing my damn mind here.
The lock clicks.
Too slow.
Everything is too fucking slow.
“Room service will be here in an hour, Wife,” I growl against her lips, the word wife hitting different now—heavier, realer, mine. “And I plan to have you at least once before they get here.”
Her breath hitches.
That sound?
Mine.
Everything about her?
Mine.
My hands slide down her sides, gripping, hauling her up against me like I need her closer than skin.
Like I need to prove something.
Not to her.
To myself.
That she’s here.
That she’s not walking away.
That this—our marriage, our vows, all of it—is real.
“Benji—” she breathes, and my name in her mouth is the last thing holding me together.
I cut her off with another kiss.
Harder.
Deeper.
No space.
No distance.
No room for doubt.
Because if I stop—I’ll remember how close I came to losing her for good.
And I can’t fucking handle that right now.
My hands move, impatient, rough, tugging at fabric, pushing things out of the way—I delve my fingers between her thick thighs and find her soft, wet center.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, Sweetheart. You’re soaked,” I growl, pushing two fingers inside her tight channel.
She laughs, then moans—soft, breathless, a little wild—and it shoots straight through me.
That sound.
