“Impatient little girl. Is your pussy wet enough?”
“Yes. I’m so wet,” I moan, my thighs climbing up and down his hips. “I started getting wet when I heard your voice.”
John’s nostrils flare, his right hand positioning his shaft at my clenching entrance. “Wet enough to take it rough?”
I try to impale myself, but he’s too thick to fit inside me without force—and that’s what he gives me. Catching my mouth in a snarling kiss, John thrusts his hips crudely, the power of his entry slamming my butt against the door. “Yes,” I whimper, my thighs tremoring. “Yes.”
“You will sleep here with me,” he rasps into my ear, driving his huge sex in and out of me. Slapslapslap. “No exceptions. If you want to have your fun across the hall with your best friend, that’s fine. But you will come home to your motherfucking man. I won’t have walls separating us.”
“I don’t want that, either,” I gasp.
“Let me love you,” he grits out against my lips. “Let me spend my lifetime guarding you.”
“I’m yours to guard. Yours to love.” I work myself on his hard sex, rubbing my clit on the ruddy base. Oh God, oh God, I’m so close. Now that I know what my body needs to tempt relief, I find that golden thread so much faster and my intuitive lover senses what I require, clutching my ass in his hands and helping me grind. “I don’t ever want to be apart again.”
“Never,” he vows fervently, loosing a harsh groan into the crook of my neck. “Come for me, Lyssa. I need to fill you up. I’ve been sick without you.”
We stare into each others eyes for several heavy beats, John using his grip on my bottom to hit that spot—over and over—and I pop like a balloon, screaming into the humid space between our bodies, my breasts jiggling like crazy now with the increased force of his thrusts. Those frantic ones that signal he’s at the end. His jaw loosens, his eyes going blind and then he’s joining me, both of us elevating to a place of pure, raw pleasure. And love.
John crushes me within his embrace and trails kisses along my hairline and cheeks. “Thank God I found you.” His gaze tracks over my face with adoration. “What was my life like without you?”
“You’ll never have to find out again,” I whisper, letting his kiss pull me under.
EPILOGUE
Lyssa
Three months later
My professor signals the end of class and I gather up my notes, excitement pulsing in my fingertips. John is waiting for me out in the hallway. I can feel it. I can feel him. The connection we forged in the Catskills grows stronger every day, amazing me sometimes. We can communicate everything to each other with a single look, but the look he’s giving me when I walk out of class is indecipherable. Stoic.
The girls leaving class around me titter and gasp at the sight of John, and while it annoyed me the first time, I’ve grown used to women ogling my big, bad mountain man. John loves to point out that men stare at me, too, but I never notice them. How can I when I’m giving John heart eyes 24/7?
“Hi,” I whisper, letting him pull me onto my toes and into a kiss. “You look even more menacing among a hallway of college students.”
“Good.” He takes my books and guides me out of the lecture building. “I have to make an appearance once in a while so the boys will continue to leave you alone and I don’t have to murder anyone.”
“Practical of you.”
His lips twitch. “I thought so.”
Once his smile goes, he’s back to being stoic and I frown over the shift. “Is it time for another weekend trip to the mountain house?”
When John gets fed up living in a concrete box, we take a trip to the Catskills and I have to admit, the wide-open space is starting to appeal to me more than the city. If it weren’t for school, I would probably beg to go more often.
“Soon, sweetness,” John says, not really answering my question.
A few minutes later we’re walking through Washington Square Park, our fingers laced together. The first time I brought him here, he scowled at the pigeons, the people, the trees, muttering about the rat race. Weird how his grumpy man vibe turned me on, right? I’m even more turned on now that he’s so casually in charge and relaxed no matter where we go in the city. In a short time, he’s become the king of this place and I’m thrilled to be his queen.
True to his word, John doesn’t question the time I spend next door doing facials or bingeing Netflix with Mason. Sometimes he even joins us—and it has been incredible to watch him grow closer to his son than ever before. They even went to a Yankees game together last week, sending me selfies until my heart wanted to burst.