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“Fuck, sweet girl,” he growls.

I stroke him, greedy, loving the way he swells even bigger in my grip. I pump my fist up and down, smearing pre-cum over the tip, watching his whole body snap tight as a bowstring. His hands crush into the sheets on either side of my hips, veins bulging, every muscle straining.

He jerks away, cock twitching in my grip, breath ragged as he swears under his breath. “Fuck, sweetheart. Not gonna come in your hand. I need to be inside you.”

I barely have time to gasp before he pushes my knees even wider and lines himself up, the thick head of his cock nudging at my soaked entrance. The first press is deliberate, a taunt and a promise all at once. He slides in, and the stretch is so intense my eyes roll back in my head. Holy hell. He’s huge, and I feel every inch as he pushes deeper, deeper, until there’s nothing between us but desperate, shattering need.

My walls clench around him, greedy and helpless. He’s so hard, filling me completely. Silas sets his jaw, eyes blazing down at me, and I’m pinned, claimed, and completely at his mercy.

The next thrust nearly breaks me. He doesn’t give me time to adjust, just presses into me slowly and hungrily, like he’s wanted this forever. Every stroke drives me higher. I’m shaking, nails digging into his biceps, losing all sense of shame or restraint.

I shatter. My whole body tightens and then liquefies. Heat punches through me, so sharp and bright my vision turns white at the edges. Silas pounds into me, every stroke so deep I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. Animalistic sounds claw out of my throat. I can’t stop making them, not that he lets up for a second. He’s relentless. He fucks me like a man obsessed, like there’s nothing else in the world but this, this flash-burn need that strips me to my bones.

I lose track of words. I lose track of how to breathe.

The world tunnels down to just the slam of his hips, the thick, throbbing pressure inside me, and the wild look in his eyes as he stares down at me like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted. I’m wrecked and begging, completely open, naked in every way possible.

“Fuck, sweet girl. Come again for me. Want to feel you milk my cock,” he rumbles against the side of my neck.

Just hearing him say that almost does me in. He twists deep, thumb finding my clit, and I come apart so hard I sob his name, body straining and convulsing around him. He growls, low and raw, and slams home one final time, cock pulsing as he empties into me, every twitch buried as deep as I can fucking take.

For a long moment, nothing moves. His chest is crushing mine, heartbeat pounding against my ribs, breath harsh and hot in my ear.

Silas rolls to his side and drags me with him, hauling me into that massive body like he can’t stand a single inch of air between us.

He tucks my face under his chin, one arm locked around my waist, palm splayed wide at the small of my back. I’m officially not going anywhere. Not that I could walk if I tried. His breath rumbles through his chest as he pulls the blanket over us, cocooning me against all that heat.

We just lie there, sticky and tangled and perfect, letting our pulses come down. My hands trace lazy circles across his abs. His fingers smooth up and down my spine, gentle now, but there’s a raw edge to it, like he’s not quite finished with me. Not ever.

Which is good because right here is where I want to be.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SILAS

The clock on my phone blinks 2:47 a.m., but my brain isn’t wired for sleep. Not when she’s lying across my chest like this, hair a wildfire mess over my body, soft breath trailing across my ribs.

I stare at the ceiling fan, shadows spinning slowly above the bed, and just count the minutes. Time is slipping by way the fuck too fast. She’s supposed to leave soon. L.A., contracts, agents, whatever shit waits for her the second she steps off Carrington property.

I hate the thought, actually fucking hate it enough to clench my jaw so tight my teeth ache. My arm bands tighter around her, palm spread wide over her bare back, holding her to me. Her skin is warm and perfect. Her weight, draped across me, feels exactly right.

This is it. I know it. She’s the one. My body fucking knows it, brain and bones and every primal part of me. I’m half-hard just breathing in the scent of her hair stuck damp to my chest, the vanilla sweetness and something sharply female that only belongs to her.

But the problem’s still there, ugly and unavoidable. Every day is a countdown now. I should be enjoying her asleep on me, but instead, I’m tallying up hours and wondering how to make her stay.

At the foot of the bed, Hank snores like he doesn’t have a care in the world. The whole house is dead silent, except for that and the clock ticking closer to the moment I have to let her go.

Fuck that.

I glance down and catch the way she breathes. Shoulders rising and falling, eyelids trembling faintly with whatever dreams she’s caught in. Her cheek’s pressed to my pec. Lashes dark against pale skin. Her lips are parted, glossy and pink. At rest, she’s not just beautiful; she’s fragile in a way that makes my chest ache.

I track every inhale. Every exhale. I run my fingers absently up her spine, tracing the bumps one by one, watching the way her skin contracts in goosebumps, then smooths out beneath my touch.

Every instinct says to hold on. Harder.

But I’ve got no answers yet. My brain’s spinning like a goddamn top, turning over angles and options, and all I know for sure is she’s not fucking leaving if I can help it. I set my jaw, mouth gone dry with the promise. Come hell or high water, she’s not leaving me.

Inez mumbles in her sleep, shifting closer, thigh sliding snugly over mine. Her hand is splayed across my hip like she’s staking her claim even while unconscious. Jesus. My cock twitches, full and heavy under the sheets. If I had it my way, I’d keep her like this forever.