Page 127 of Stay Wild Darlin’

I whimpered, and he collapsed beside me, chest rising hard, pulling me with him so I lay on my side, still tied, still messy.

“Hold still,” he murmured, brushing his lips against my shoulder as he slowly loosened the knots binding my wrists.

When the last loop slipped away, I let my arms fall forward with a shaky sigh. He caught one hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the inside of my wrist softly.

I turned over slowly, groaning as the motion shifted everything inside me. Cum leaked down my thighs. My inner legs were slick, the sheets beneath me soaked.

I looked down. Dark stains spread across the sheets—wet and glistening, a mixture of sweat, slick, spit, and two very intense orgasms that had squirted across the entire lower half of the bed.

My eyes widened. “Jesus Christ,” I whispered, blinking down at the wreckage. “I ruined your bed.”

My cheeks flushed hot, the embarrassment crashing into me like a wave. I instinctively moved to cover myself, even as the mess clung to my skin. “Dalton, I— shit— I’m so sorry⁠—”

He leaned over me, cocky and satisfied, face still streaked faintly with dried cum and a few drops of slick.

“Hey,” he reached out to tuck a damp strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s not embarrassing. At all.”

He sat up and leaned back on his heels, glancing at the mess like it was no big deal. “I put a waterproof mattress pad down months ago when Cora first came to live with me. Just in case.” He looked back at me, smiling like I hadn’t soaked his entire bed. “Sheets wash. No harm done.”

I was still uncertain, chewing my cheek, but he leaned in and kissed me softly.

“You go take a shower,” he murmured, thumb brushing along my jaw. “I’ll clean up in here and meet you after with water and snacks?”

I nodded slowly, still flushed, but the knot of embarrassment in my chest had loosened. “Deal.”

43

Dalton

I was going to get her stuff from the guest room and move her into mine first thing this morning. She wasn’t going to spend another day in the guest room in the back. Not after she gave me what I needed—when she showed me she was there for me, no questions asked. It didn’t matter that my parents weren’t going to be there for me. Poppy was.

After everything, the way she looked at me, the way she listened, the way she gave herself over so completely, I knew. She was there for all of me, the ugly parts, the lonely parts, the pieces I’d spent years pretending didn’t need anyone.

She made me feel wanted in a way I’d never had.

I was done keeping my distance. I was going to give her everything, if she’d let me.

I reached for her the second I woke up, hand sliding across the bed, half expecting to find her still wrapped up in me, but the sheets were cool.

I heard Cora babbling down the hallway. Soft humming. The faint scrape of a spatula against a pan.

I got up and pulled on sweats, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I followed the sounds like they were pulling me home.

When I got down the hall, she was standing in my kitchen. Over the stove, barefoot and beautiful, her brown hair pulled up in a messy knot. She must’ve slipped back into her room to change, but only barely—she wore tiny pajama shorts and a thin tank top with no bra. The cotton clung to her curves, her back arched slightly as she scrambled eggs, and I saw the outline of her darkened nipple pressing through the fabric.

Fuck me.

Cora was in her high chair, grinning and babbling to herself, slapping her little hands on the tray like life had never been better.

Poppy glanced over her shoulder, amber eyes catching mine, and that tired little smile spread across her lips.

“Morning,” she said, like this was normal. Like we did this every day.

My heart slammed once.

She fit here.

In my space. In my life. In my damn bones.