He shifts slightly, angling his hips, and I cry out as he hits something deep inside me that sends pleasure shooting through my entire body.
“Right there?” he murmurs, his voice rough with satisfaction.
“Yes… God, yes.”
He gives me everything, holding nothing back. Each thrust driving me higher and higher until I’m trembling beneath him, my thighs quivering, my breath ragged as I cling onto him with everything have.
“I want to feel you come on me, Bree,” he says. “Let me feel you.”
My body obeys as it clenches around him as my orgasm crashes over me. I cry out his name, my back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure pulse through me.
He follows with a low groan, his hips jerking as he thrusts deep one last time. I feel him pulse inside me, his release warm and I know I am going to ask him if we can go skin on skin next time. He stays there, buried deep in me still, breathing heavily against my neck, out bodies tangled together, slick with sweat.
I smile, still catching my breath. “I hope that is only round one?”
He kisses my shoulder, his voice low and possessive. “Sweetheart, I’m not letting you out of this bed for a long time.”
“In that case, can we not use a condom next time? I’m on the pill.” I ask as he rolls next to me.
I hear a low groan, “Christ Bree, way to make me rock hard again.”
I smile as I lean over him. “Is that a yes?”
He flips me so I staddle him, “no honey, that’s a hell yes.” And then he proceeds to drown out any other thoughts with his mouth.
Again.
Chapter 21: Scott
One week.
That’s all it’s been. Seven days since I buried myself inside Bree Taylor and claimed her as mine, but it feels like a lifetime. Or maybe it just feels like it’s the only life I want now.
I wake up every morning with my face between her thighs. It’s become my favorite part of the day, tasting her while she’s still soft and sleepy, watching her body stir under my mouth, hearing those breathy moans before she fully wakes.
She always comes apart so easily for me, like her body knows it’s mine. Like it was made for me. But every time, after the pleasure fades and I’m holding her close, I feel it—the ache deep in my chest.
Because her cabin is almost done. And once it is, she’s another step closer to leaving.
I’ve stretched it out as long as I can. Slowed down the work, and pretended like I needed more time. But I’m running out of excuses.
The roof is solid now, walls patched, leaks sealed. It’s not pretty but it’s livable. Hank and Clara have been stopping by more often, checking in, bringing food and gossip. Clara’s been fussing over Bree like a mother hen, while Hank keeps giving me these looks—like he knows what’s going on but hasn’t decided if he’s going to bust my balls or pat me on the back.
It’s only a matter of time before Jake finds out. I don’t give a shit anymore. Not really.
I’ve made my peace with it. Because I’m in love with her. I fell hard and fast. Harder than I thought was possible.
It’s not just the sex, though that’s been better than anything I’ve ever known.
It’s her. Her stubbornness. Her laughter. The way she sings off-key when she thinks I’m not listening.
I’m hers.
I just don’t know if she’s mine. Not the way I need her to be.
Because every time she talks about her future, it’s still somewhere else. The cabin’s just a project. A stop along the way.
And me?
