Chapter 28
Beckham
My apartment doesn't feel like mine anymore, and I couldn’t give less of a fuck about it.
It's covered in her. Hennessy's sweaters draped over my furniture, her makeup scattered across my bathroom counter, those ridiculous fuzzy socks she leaves everywhere.
The tree I never would have put up is still twinkling in the corner, though it's New Year's Eve and most people would have taken that shit down by now.
But she loves it, so it stays.
“What do you want to watch?” I ask, settling on the couch beside her with two mugs of coffee. Black for me, enough cream and sugar to make it barely coffee for her.
Hennessy takes her mug, curling her cute as fuck legs under her. The way her sweater slips down to reveal her collarbone makes my mouth water. Even after all these weeks, I still want to devour her every fucking second.
“Something mindless,” she says, blowing on her coffee. “It's the last night of the year. I don't want to think.”
I snort, grabbing the remote. “You never want to think when it comes to TV.”
“Not true.” She nudges me with her foot. “I just don't want to watch another hockey documentary. There's only so many times I can hear about the '94 Rangers before I lose my mind.”
“Blasphemy.” I catch her ankle, my thumb absently stroking the soft skin there. “You pick.”
She grins, victorious, and reaches for the remote. “We're watching that baking show I like.”
“Again?” I groan, but it's all for show. I'd watch paint dry if it made her smile like that.
“You love it,” she insists, scrolling through options. “I saw you getting all invested in that cake challenge last time.”
“That asshole deserved to go home. His fondant work was shit.”
She laughs, the sound hitting me right in the chest. “See? You're practically a pastry expert now.”
The show starts up, but I'm barely paying attention. I'm too busy watching her. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear, how her lips purse when she sips her coffee, the slight furrow between her brows when she concentrates.
“You're staring,” she says without looking at me.
“Can't help it.” I don't bother denying it. “You're fucking gorgeous.”
A flush spreads across her cheeks. After everything we've done together, I can still make her blush with a simple compliment. It's fucking addictive.
“Smooth talker.” She sets her coffee down and shifts closer, tucking herself against my side where she fits perfectly.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her tighter against me. Her hair smells like my shampoo, but somehow better. Everything is better on her.
“I see you eyeing that tree, Kingston. It stays up until after New Year's Day. Those are the rules,” she says with that stubborn tilt to her chin I've come to fucking love. “Besides, it looks good in your apartment.”
“Our apartment,” I correct her without thinking.
Her eyes widen slightly, those full lips parting in surprise. “Our apartment?”
I don't back down. “You've spent every night here for the past week. Your shit is in my closet. You even brought over that ridiculous fucking throw pillow.” I nod toward the sparkly monstrosity she insisted would brighten up the space.
“And that makes it our apartment?” There's something careful in her voice, like she's testing the waters.
“Yeah,” I say, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “It does.”
Her smile is slow and sweet, warming me better than the coffee. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good. Because I'm not planning on letting you go anywhere else.”
She rolls her eyes, but I catch the flush spreading across her cheeks. “You're so fucking possessive.”
“You love it.” I take a sip of my coffee, watching her over the rim of the mug.
“I do love it,” she admits, taking another sip while eyeing me over the rim of her mug.
She lowers the mug slightly, those full lips curving into what looks like a casual smile, but I know better. “I stopped taking birth control the other day.”
My body goes completely still. I set my mug down on the coffee table, slow and deliberate, making sure I don't spill a fucking drop while my heart hammers against my ribs. Without a word, I turn and grab her hips, lifting her effortlessly to straddle my lap.
Her thighs bracket mine as she settles her weight on me, her eyes never leaving mine.
“You planning to tell me that before or after I put a baby in you?” My voice comes out rougher than I intended, raw with want.
She smirks, running her hands up my chest. “Just figured I'd let you know.”
I surge forward, capturing her mouth in a kiss that's equal parts possession and worship. My hands grip her ass, pulling her tight against me where I'm already hardening. She tastes like sugar and coffee and everything I never knew I needed until her.
When I finally break the kiss, we're both breathing hard. “You'll be knocked up before the ball drops tonight, baby. That's a fucking promise.”
Her pupils dilate, her breath catching. “Prove it.”
I don't need to be told twice. My hands find the hem of her sweater, yanking it over her head in one fluid motion. She's not wearing a bra underneath, her tits spilling into my hands as I cup them.
“Fuck, you're perfect,” I mutter, my thumbs brushing over her nipples.
She arches into my touch, her hands already working at the buttons of my shirt. “You talk too much.”
I laugh against her skin, nipping at her collarbone. “And you're fucking impatient.”
“Can you blame me?” She grinds down against my already hard cock, the friction making me hiss through my teeth. “You just promised to put a baby in me before midnight.”
“Challenge fucking accepted.”
I grab her leggings at the inner thigh and pull hard, the fabric tearing with a satisfying rip. She gasps, her eyes widening as I create a jagged hole right where I need access.
“Did you just—”
“We can buy more,” I growl, shoving the thin material of her panties to the side. My fingers find her already slick, and fuck if that doesn't make me even harder. “You're soaked.”
“I've been thinking about this all day,” she admits, her voice breathy as I slide one finger inside her, then two.
I can't wait another second. I lift my hips, shoving my sweats and boxers down just enough to free my cock. It springs up between us, hard and ready.
“Shirt off,” she demands, tugging at the fabric. I yank it over my head with one hand, not taking my other hand away from working her open until the last possible moment.
The moment my shirt hits the floor, she presses against me, skin to skin. Her breasts flatten against my chest, nipples hard points against my skin. The contrast of her warm, soft body against mine makes me groan.
“Now,” she whispers, her breath hot against my ear. “Fuck me now.”
I line myself up and thrust up into her in one smooth motion, burying myself to the hilt. Her tight heat envelops me, squeezing my cock like she was made for me.
“Fuck,” I hiss through clenched teeth, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.
She throws her head back, her tits bouncing as I start fucking up into her. Her hands brace against my shoulders, nails digging into my skin. I swear she’s got more of an obsession of marking me than I do her.
Her pussy clenches around me, so fucking tight it's almost painful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by her breathless moans.
“You feel that?” I demand, one hand sliding up to grip her throat lightly. “Feel how deep I am?”
She nods, eyes glazed with pleasure, lips parted. I tighten my grip just enough to make her gasp.
“Next time we do this, you're gonna be carrying my baby,” I tell her, my voice rough with need. “Gonna fill you up so fucking good you won't have a choice.”
Her pussy spasms around me at my words, her rhythm faltering. I take control, both hands back on her hips as I pound up into her relentlessly.
“You want that?” I ask, already knowing the answer from how wet she's getting. “Want me to knock you up tonight?”
“Yes,” she moans, grinding down to meet my thrusts. “Fuck yes, Beck.”
I slip my hand between us, finding her clit and circling it with my thumb. “Maybe I should go get another tie right now. Plug you up with it after I come. Keep all my cum deep inside you where it belongs just like all those weeks ago.”
Her pussy clenches violently around me at my words, her rhythm faltering. “Fuck, Beck—”
“Make sure every drop stays inside you,” I continue, my voice dropping lower as I work her clit faster. “Tie you to our bed and keep you full of me until it takes.”
I grip her by the back of the neck and pull her down, capturing one perfect nipple between my lips. I suck hard, making her cry out, her back arching to push more of her breast into my mouth.
“When these are full of milk,” I growl against her skin before biting down gently, “I'm gonna taste it every fucking morning.”
She moans, grinding down harder on my cock as I switch to her other nipple, giving it the same treatment.
“Only way I'll ever drink coffee that's not black,” I tell her between rough sucks. “Mix it with your milk. Make it sweet like you.”
“Jesus Christ,” she gasps, her movements becoming more erratic. “That's so fucking filthy.”
“You love it,” I remind her, flicking my tongue over her sensitive peak. “Love how dirty I am for you.”
Her hands tangle in my hair, holding me against her as I suck and bite, marking her perfect skin. I can feel her getting closer, her pussy fluttering around my cock.
“I'm gonna fill you up so good.” I promise, thrusting up harder, faster.
The tension in her body snaps all at once. She throws her head back, a broken cry tearing from her throat as she comes around me, her pussy clamping down like a vise. The sight of her—head thrown back, tits bouncing, completely fucking wrecked on my cock—pushes me over the edge.