Page 177 of Only Ever You

Cupping her ass, I move her closer to the edge of the table. Just as eager as I am, she wraps her legs around my hips, drawing me closer.

I press the tip of my cock to her clit, circling it slowly. “You’re mine. True or not true?”

“True,” she murmurs, already panting.

My mind is fogged with lust and need and hope and fear, but I still want to hear her say it. “You’ll always be mine. True or not true?”

“True. Always true.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Positioning myself at her entrance, I push inside her. Then, I pull out slowly. I repeat the motion again and again, sliding deeper with each thrust. It’s a miracle that I can hold on to my control because every time her warm pussy closes around my cock, I edge closer to my release.

When I’m finally balls deep inside her, I let out a growl. “Fuck, I’ve missed this…”

I fuck her faster, one of my arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her against my chest. The sweet sounds she makes every time I bury my cock to the hilt encourage me to move faster, sink deeper.

With her brows knitted, eyes closed, she’s enjoying the pleasure I give her. Her moans and whimpers, along with the legs of the table scraping the floor and my own groans, mix, creating a melody I never want to stop listening to.

There’s no me, no her; there’s only us, and it’s the most exquisite feeling in the world.

As her breathing grows shallow, my heart practically beats out of my chest, and my vision blurs. I worry I won’t last, but then her pussy clenches around me, promising me she’s close too.

She seeks my lips, her fingers clawing at my T-shirt, demanding more of me. So, I give her everything. When I swirl my tongue around hers, she lets go. Her pussy squeezes my dick, pulsating around me, her juices flowing over me. I don’t hold back, and my release hits me hard as I spill inside her.

“You’re perfect,” I whisper. “And you were always worth waiting for.”

I kiss her before she can respond.

I don’t know what happens next, but I’m not done with her. Not even close. And every flat surface in my apartment feels like an invitation.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

i don’t want it any other way

ISLA

Twenty-two years old

The warm August air is dry, the sky clear as we step out of the airport. Santa Clara’s summers are so different from those on the East Coast. It’s calmer here, much more familiar. It’s home in every sense of the word.

Though that sensation may have more to do with the man cradling my hand in his. The man who was my constant even when we were apart, even more now that we’re officially together.

It’s only been two weeks, but those two weeks have brimmed with so much love, happiness, and passion that sometimes, I push my practices back simply because I don’t want to leave his bed. Or our bed, because he insisted I move in with him, and I gladly obliged. I don’t want to be away from him any more than necessary.

Once Michael loads our luggage, he slides into the back seat and pulls me to his side, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his nose in my hair.

“A little sleepy.” I cuddle into him and close my eyes. “Six-hour flights are no fun when you can’t sleep.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t watched Stranger Things, you would’ve fallen asleep.” His chuckle reverberates through my body, making my skin hum.

“It’s my third rewatch. You really think something I know is going to happen will scare me?”

“Guess not.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “But it does mean you’re going to bed early.”

“Or I could take a nap.” I lean back, craning my neck to look him in the eye. “And you need to quit it with the patronizing tone. My dad won’t appreciate it.”

He runs his fingers through his hair and then adjusts his nose ring.