King Hunt (Boys of Brisley 1)

“Talk to me, Miss Bryce,” I said quietly. “You’re going to chew a hole through your bottom lip if you don’t spit it out.”

She deflated against me with a heavy sigh. “I guess I’m going to need to find somewhere to live now, huh?”

Her grip around me tightened, like leaving me was the worst thing she’d ever have to do, but that had nothing on what the thought was doing to me.

“Did you hit your head?” I asked abruptly. “Do I need to ask you who the President is?”

“Of course not. His name is Sterling Bishop,” she joked, but her voice was still low and laced with stress.

“Zeppelin, look at me.” I waited until I could see the gorgeous, unending ocean in her eyes, then gripped her chin lightly. “You aren’t going anywhere. You live here with me. If you move anywhere at all, it’ll be two doors down the hallway into my room. Do you want to move out?”

She shook her head so fast I was sure she gave herself whiplash. “No. I want to stay here with you, in your room. I just didn’t want to assume ...” she trailed off, as if she just realized how ridiculous the thought of her leaving was.

“Didn’t want to assume that I’d want the woman I love to continue living with me because she wants to and not because she has to?” I asked, brushing her hair out of her face. “Your Crocs can move out, though.”

She shook her head and kissed me softly. “They stay. If you really love me you’ll be nice to them.”

“They’re not people,” I muttered against her lips. “They’re not dogs or children or eccentric neighbors. They’re shoes, and barely even shoes. Don’t make me.”

“They are shoes. They just have different modes. I have more pairs. Kylie brought the rest of my stuff, I just haven’t brought them out yet. Should they go on a certain side of your closet, Sir?”

Horrified didn’t begin to cover it. “I knew letting her come here was a mistake. I retract what I said, you have to move out.”

I kissed the objections from her tongue and lifted her just enough to tug her yoga pants down to her thighs. “Gonna miss you, sweetheart.”

“I won’t make it without you,” she said dramatically. “Thank god Kylie brought my dildo too. He’ll have to take your place.”

I tugged her hair and stopped what I was doing. “Luckily for you, I’m the type of man who realizes toys are my friend, not my enemy. Do you want your dildo right now, sweetheart? Or my cock?”

“You,” she gasped without hesitation. “I’ll always choose you. Please fuck me, Sir.”

“Mm, maybe one day soon we’ll see if you can take both.” I pushed my sweats down to free my length and slid inside of her, hissing slightly as her body adjusted to me. “Do you think you can? Take your dildo in your tight little ass and me in this dripping pussy?”

“Yes, Sir.” She clenched tightly around me with a soft moan. “I still have one more hole ... do you want to plug them all?”

I could’ve eaten her alive in that moment, and I damn near proposed. “Yes. But right now, I just want you. Just like this.” I wrapped my hands over her shoulders to hold her in my lap as I rocked up, planting my bare feet on the soft carpet as I drove myself deeper into the only woman I ever wanted to fuck again. “Just like this.”

Her short, chipped nails dug into my shoulder blades as I took her apart and relished every moan, every soft whimper I drew from her, and not one part of me wanted to stop her when her body started to tremble. “Sir! Sir, I’m close. Am I— can I—”

“Yes. Give it to me, Zeppelin. Now.”

The way she clenched around me stole the breath from my lungs. I kissed her, needing to be closer, pulled her down harder and throbbed inside of her until I was spilling over and leaving a possessive trail of bites and kisses down her neck.

It was great, but it wasn’t enough. Once was never enough with her, but for the first time in our relationship ... that was okay. We had all night, and she could be as loud as she needed to be — it was just us, only us.

And that would always be enough.