Briggs (Carolina Reapers 7)

We were ravenous, frantic, our hands desperate for the feel of each other—the feel of what we were together. We were heat and light and love.

Our breaths were frenzied by the time I ran my hand up the inside of her thigh and found her soaked thong between those luscious legs.

“Shit, Bristol, baby,” I groaned into our kiss, my fingers stroking her over the drenched silk.

“Don’t make me wait.” Her hands were at my fly, already flicking open my button and undoing my zipper.

I plunged two fingers inside her, my dick jumping at the silken feel of her tight walls.

“Yes!” I felt her cry of pleasure in every cell of my body. If I hadn’t needed her more than air, maybe I would have played longer. Maybe I would have tasted and teased, but the need blazing through my veins drove me to consume. I didn’t just want to be inside her body, I wanted inside her soul.

“So wet.” I stroked her with my fingers, using my thumb to work the swollen nub of her clit.

“Feels like you don’t want to wait, either.” Her hand wrapped around my cock, and I hissed at the first sweet stroke of her fingers around me.

“Now,” I agreed, slipping my fingers from the warmth of her body. Grabbing her ass, I lifted her against the wall.

She wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck, settling right over my erection.

Reaching between us, I tugged her underwear to the side and brought my cock to her entrance. That first inch was heaven. It took everything I had to pause there, both of us panting.

“I love you.” What was meant to come out as an endearment escaped as a growl.

“I love you,” she promised, wiggling her hips.

I groaned and pressed her harder into the wall, cushioning her head with my hand. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“You’re mine,” she teased with a kiss, sucking on my lower lip.

“Say it.” I pulled back until I was almost out of her.

“I’m yours!” Her nails dug into my shoulders, her hazel eyes finding mine as she smiled. “Say it back.” She gripped my waist with her thighs and lifted slightly until my cock was right at the edge of her.

“I’ve always been yours.” I held her gaze and plunged forward until she held me from root to tip, surrounding me in her slick heat. “Always yours,” I swore, then kissed her as I started to pump my hips, sinking deeper and deeper with every thrust.

“Always yours,” she repeated against my lips.

This was heaven. There was nothing compared to having Bristol in my arms, my life. Hard and fast, I drove us toward climax. There would be time for slow and gentle later. Time to savor. Time to worship. We had that time because Bristol gave it to us. She chose me, chose us, and I would never let her regret it. Ever. And when we reached that summit, I angled to hit her sweet spot with every roll of my hips and sent us both careening over the edge.

Home.

We were home, and always would be as long as we were together.

Epilogue

One Year Later

Bristol

“Duchess?” Cormac called, the sound of our front door closing behind him. “I’m home,” he said the words in a sing-song voice that made me bite back a laugh. “Where are you?”

“In here!” I called to him from the living room, anticipation racing through my veins. It had been a year of pure bliss with Cormac—a string of hard-working days and even harder nights. We fought and made up countless times, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Except, maybe, the way it was about to go.

“Whoa,” he said when he rounded the corner, instantly dropping his gear bag. His eyes flew wide as he saw what I stood on top of and what I was wearing. “What’s all this?” He stalked toward me with a predator’s gaze, his rich brown eyes snagging on the red corset I wore and the sheer red thigh-highs that connected to it with garters. I’d selected a pair of black stilettos to complete the look, my hair hanging down in long waves over my breasts that threatened to spill out the top of the corset.

“I’m sure you haven’t forgotten this pedestal,” I said, tapping it with my stiletto.

“How could I forget?” He met me at eye level as his hands slid over my waist. “Is this the new line you’re working on?” He asked, planting a kiss to my chest. “Because while I’m all for it, there is no way in hell I want you plastered all over New York like this.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I arched my chest into his kiss. “Caveman,” I sighed.

“You bring it out in me,” he said, grazing his tongue over my collarbone.