I start slow, touching her like she might break. “Jesus… You feel too good. Every time. So fucking good.”
Then she surprises me. She bucks her hips, taking me deeper. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she meets every thrust in the most desperate, demanding way. I groan against her mouth, giving her more, matching her intensity.Fuck-her-hard it is!
“You want it like this, baby?” I rasp, pulling back just enough to see her face.
She nods, gasping, her eyes wild.
That’s all I need.
I drive into her, hard and deep, our bodies colliding in perfect cadence.
Her legs tighten around me, locking me in. That’s my cue. She’s close. I keep my pace steady, pushing her to the edge until I feel her pulse around me, her moans spilling into the air.
The pressure builds, hot and blinding, until I explode, emptying into her with one final thrust, my body tensing as I do. Her hands grip my biceps, holding on as I let out a low groan.
As we both come down, I press my forehead to hers, still inside her, our chests rising and falling in sync. Her arms are wrapped tight around my neck, and I swear, I could stay like this all day.
She giggles softly, brushing her nose against mine. “So… you still wanna go to the pool?”
I chuckle, pressing a kiss to her lips. Slow. Soft. Lingering. “Pool can wait. You? You can’t.”
She hums against my mouth, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of my neck. “I love being married to you.”
A grin tugs at my lips “Yeah?” I murmur, kissing her again, fiercer this time—like this one kiss can somehow mirror everything I’m feeling right now. “Me too, baby. Me too.”
I shift, rolling us to the side and pulling her close as we both catch our breath. I don’t know if my cup’s ever been so full. I can’t stop grinning.
Well, shit. If this is what marriage looks like, if this is us…
I’ll take forever.
Chapter Twenty-One
ALLEY
PRESENT DAY
The poundingat the door yanks me back to reality—slamming into me, sharp and unwelcome.
I flinch.
“Alley!”
There’s more banging, but I can’t move.
“Al, I’m coming in!”
My eyes lock on the ceiling—smooth, white, empty. I stare at nothing, but it feels like a mirror, like I’m staring back at my soul. Nothingness.
There’s nothing left. Nothing more I can give. Nothing more I can do. Nothing left to live for.
I’m helpless.
Alone.
And scared out of my mind.
“Alley! Hey, Al. What’s going on? You okay? Come here.”
