Page 48 of True North

I was prepared for him to drive inside when suddenly, his body went solid like he’d turned to stone.

“Fuck,” he hissed, slamming his eyes closed like he was in physical pain.

“What? What’s wrong?” My words came out breathless, my chest rising and falling like I’d run a hundred-meter dash.

His forehead dropped to mine, his arms trembling from the strain of holding himself still. “No condom.”

Cupping his cheek, I lifted his face so I could look in his eyes as I said, “I’m on the pill. I understand if you don’t want to take that risk, but I’m covered. And I’m clean.”

His whole frame sagged on a heavy exhale. “I’m clean too. Just got checked a few months back. I would never put you at risk. You trust me?”

I nodded, gently scraping my nails against the stubble that had formed on his cheeks. “I trust you with everything.”

On that answer, he pushed inside me, stretching me so deliciously, I couldn’t have held my groan in if there had been a gun pointed at my head.

“Jesus, you feel so fucking good,” he gritted as he pulled out and drove back in.

I drove my head back into the mattress, giving room to his wandering mouth as he started to fuck me hard and fast. “You fill me so perfectly.”

“Because your body was made to take mine, baby.” He drove in harder, deeper, building that pressure deep inside me. “This perfect cunt was made to take my cock. Fuck, babe. Everything about you was made for me.”

I fell over into another orgasm that had stars bursting behind my eyelids. North’s hand came up to cover my mouth as I cried out with my release. Every muscle in my body clenched and released, over and over as the waves continued to crest.

“Eyes, Little Flower. Give me your eyes. I want to see you while I fill you up.”

I peeled my eyes open as he let out a feral groan that set off aftershocks in my body as he came inside me, his hot release coating my walls.

A fine sweat had covered our bodies by the time we finished, and North collapsed onto me, giving me his weight. I was all too happy to wrap him in my arms and legs as we came down from an incredible high.

“Fucking made for me,” he said into the crook of my neck before finally lifting up, as the need for air was becoming impossible to ignore. The tender way he stared down at me, I could swear I saw the very same love that was living in my chest reflecting from him. “I don’t know if it’s normal, but feeling my cum leaking out of you might be the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

If loving that made him weird, I was right there with him.

After a kiss I felt all the way to my toes, he climbed off the bed and moved to the bathroom. I heard the tap turn on and off, and a few seconds later, he returned with a warm, damp cloth. He was so gentle as he cleaned me, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay.

Goddess, I loved this man. With every single piece of my heart.

When he returned a second time after tossing the cloth in the laundry, he smiled down at me and asked, “Which side of the bed you want, baby?”

“I normally sleep in the middle.”

“Then the middle it is.” He climbed back in and threw the covers over both of us before reaching for me and adjusting my body so my back was pressed against his chest and his arms held me close. Not even a minute later, I fell asleep. And slept harder and more peacefully than I had in a really long time.

TWENTY-THREE

TOLLIVER

The bitch sitting on top of me, bouncing up and down on my cock, sounded like a D-list porn star. The noises she was making grated on my goddamn nerves, making it harder and harder to keep an erection.

Should have known a whore like her would be so stretched out neither one of us could feel a fucking thing. That was what I got for slumming it a couple towns over in some shitty dive bar. Usually, I would have turned my nose up at being approached by some white-trash bar slut, but it had been too long, and I needed to blow off some steam.

If my father and grandfather didn’t get off my fucking back about this election, I was going to lose my shit. I was so sick and tired of hearing about the Brady legacy. Like they were any fucking better than me. We all got where we were the same way. By stepping on the backs of pathetic people beneath us. But for some reason, they still thought they were better than me.

A few fuck-ups when I was barely old enough to know better still hung over my head to this day. Like either of them were perfect. Dad went after that asshole who dared to run against him all those years ago, damn near destroying the man and his family. And my grandfather was even worse. The man had literal bodies buried places no one would ever find them. That was how he got where he was.

But I made the mistake of losing my temper one time and giving that stupid bitch of an ex what she deserved, and I could never live it down.

It wasn’t like I killed her. I mean, at least I don’t think I did. I could have sworn she was still breathing by the time I finished with her. And I’d only done what I did because she pushed me to it!