Chapter 14BOONE #3
She listens immediately—fingers curling tight around the wood, back arching, ass tipping up in a way that makes my vision blur. She’s giving it to me. All of it. Offering herself up like I’m the only one she’d ever want to take it.
I palm her ass, spreading her wide, dragging my cock through her again. The mess between her thighs coats me instantly, slick and warm. I press the tip in—just barely. Just enough to make her gasp and jolt forward.
“Look at you,” I mutter, hand gripping her ass tight. “Fucking dripping.”
“Boone—” she breathes.
I smile darkly. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You want more?”
She groans, forehead pressing to the headboard, her knuckles white where she clings to it.
“Need you,” she pants. “Need you to fuck me.”
I slam into her in one brutal thrust—deep and to the hilt—and holy fuck, she clamps down around me so tight my knees almost give out.
“Jesus,” I grit, my breath catching. “You feel fucking insane. So perfect.”
She moans, back arching, pushing against me like she’s trying to take me deeper—even though I’m already buried in her, balls-deep and barely holding on.
“Again,” she gasps. “Don’t hold back.”
My hand slides up her spine, grabs a fistful of her hair, and yanks her head back just enough to arch her even more—spine curved, tits forward, ass perfect and round and begging to be bruised.
“Not scared I’ll break you?” I murmur against her ear.
She shakes her head, mouth falling open.
I slam into her again—hard enough to shake the bed, hard enough to make her cry out—and it only makes her fuck me back harder. Grinding. Taking it like it’s the only thing she’s ever needed.
I grab her hips, use my weight, and own every thrust. The slap of skin on skin echoes off the walls, filthy and fast. Wet and obscene.
“Please,” she gasps, voice cracking.
I slide one hand to her throat, wrap it gently—not choking, just pressure, just possession—while the other keeps her hips pinned to me. Her pulse slams under my palm.
“You love it like this, don’t you?” I snarl in her ear, my breath hot against her cheek. “Bent over, dripping, stretched so fucking full you can’t think.”
She gasps—wrecked and wild—and nods, words failing her.
I press deeper, my cock buried to the base, and roll my hips, grinding right against that spot that makes her cry out. She cups a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, like she suddenly remembered our twelve-year-old is asleep right down the hall.
I slide my fingers between her thighs and stroke her clit—slow, dirty circles that make her sob into the pillows.
“Tell me you’re mine,” I growl. “Say it.”
“You,” she breathes. “I’m yours—I’m fucking yours, Boone—”
“That’s right, baby. No one else gets this. No one gets to see you fall apart like this.”
She clenches around me, tighter, her body drawing me in like it knows I belong there.
And then I press my palm low over her stomach—right where I’m deep inside her—and say, “You feel that? That’s me. All of me.”
Her legs give out. She starts to collapse, but I don’t let her. I wrap one arm tight around her chest, holding her up, still fucking her deep, still circling her clit with precision.
“Fuck—I—Boone—I’m gonna—” Her voice breaks, wrecked beyond recognition.
“Come for me,” I growl against her throat. “Let me feel that perfect little pussy.”
She shatters.
Her body goes rigid, back arching like she’s been struck by lightning—mouth falling open, no sound at first, just a silent, desperate gasp—before her moan tears out of her, rough and ruined and all fucking mine.
She pulses around me, legs shaking, back arched, milking every inch of me with every wave of her orgasm .
And I don’t stop.
“Fuck, baby,” I groan, my spine locking up, every muscle strung tight like a live wire. “You get so fucking tight when you come for me. Drives me insane.”
I’m right there. Balls drawn tight, cock throbbing, body seconds from losing it—but I’m not done. Not yet.
I pull out, just enough to make her whimper—just enough to feel the way her body tries to pull me back in, clenching around nothing like she needs me to stay.
Then I flip her, fast—hands gripping her hips, dragging her under me until she’s flat on her back, dazed and wrecked and everything I want. Her eyes are glassy, lips parted, chest rising in sharp, uneven pulls like she’s been fighting for air.
She’s fucked-out perfection. And I need to watch her fall apart again.
“I need to see you,” I rasp, hovering over her. “Need to see your face when I come inside you.”
And then I’m in her again—slamming deep, bottoming out so hard it knocks the air out of both of us.
She cries out, nails digging into my shoulders, her pussy squeezing me like it doesn’t want to let go. My hips grind, my hands anchor her in place, and my mouth drags over her throat, down to her tits, sucking one deep into my mouth and biting hard enough to leave a mark.
She arches like she’s offering me everything. And I take it.
All of it.
“Mine,” I growl against her skin, the word a promise and a fucking prayer.
I pull back just enough to look at her. Her lips are red and kiss-swollen, her skin flushed and slick, her eyes barely focused—and she’s still fluttering around me, her body so fucking sensitive, it’s like she’s teetering on the edge again.
My hand slides down and grabs her thigh, yanking it high around my hip as I push deeper. “Gonna fill you up,” I mutter. “Make sure you feel me leaking out of you tomorrow. ”
Her breath stutters. She claws at my arms. “Do it,” she gasps.
A growl tears from my chest—low, rough, and feral. I grip her leg tighter and throw it over my shoulder, spreading her wide open and driving into her with everything I’ve got.
She cries out, her spine bowing off the bed as I hit something deep. She tightens around me again, so fucking wet, so fucking perfect, and I swear she’s about to come for me a second time.
“Yeah,” I pant, teeth clenched. “You gonna give it to me again, sweetheart? Let me feel that sweet pussy choke my cock while I come inside you?”
Her eyes flutter, lips trembling.
“I don’t—I’ve never—” Her voice breaks, too far gone to keep up.
She doesn’t finish.
Because her body does it for her.
She locks up, thighs trembling, spine arching like she’s trying to leave the fucking earth—and then she breaks. A cry rips from her throat and I feel it—every pulse, every flutter, every tight, desperate clench around my cock like she’s trying to pull me even deeper.
“Fuck,” I bite out through gritted teeth, dragging her leg down, flipping her open under me. My rhythm goes to hell, thrusts turning rough, reckless, driven by the heat curling low in my spine that’s about to snap me in half.
I slam into her, one last time—a full-body surrender—and then I’m gone.
My body seizes, jaw locked, muscles pulled tight as I come inside her.
“Shit—Lark—” I groan as I press my forehead to hers, hips jerking with every pulse, every thick spill of release as I fill her up.
It’s not clean. It’s not quiet. It’s fucking primal.
Her body keeps fluttering around me, still milking every drop. She’s not letting go. And neither am I.
I stay inside her—deep, heavy, throbbing. The heat between us is obscene, the mess even worse, and fuck if I don’t want it to stay like this forever. Her breath ghosts over my neck, her nails scratching lightly down my back like she’s trying to ground herself with the last bit of strength she has.
And then she shifts. Just a little. Her hips press up, a soft little roll like she still wants more. Like she already misses me moving inside her.
That tiny movement sends another twitch through my cock. I groan against her neck.
“Goddamn, you feel good,” I murmur, dragging a hand down to her stomach, spreading my fingers wide over the soft skin that used to carry my son.
We’re not talking about babies any time soon and realistically I know that. Hell, I don’t even know if she wants more kids.
But the thought—the fantasy of it—hits me low and hard. Of her letting me put another baby inside her. Of her body carrying something that’s both of us again.
And I feel it. That ache. That pull.
I press a kiss to her temple, slow and reverent. “You’re everything,” I whisper before I even realize the words are out.
Lark hums, her hands still dragging along my back, nails tracing slow, lazy lines.
I tilt her face to mine, kiss her mouth—soft, messy, perfect—and press my weight back into her just to feel her gasp again. My cock’s still inside her and I’m not ready to move. I’m enjoying every fucking second I get to stay here.
“You good?” I murmur against her lips, brushing my thumb over her jaw, my hand still low on her hip like she might float away if I let go.
She nods. “Better than good.”
I let myself smile, drag my mouth along her jaw, bury my face in her neck. My hand spreads wide over her belly again, and I let the thought sit there, hot and heavy in my chest.
Her fingers move like she’s not even thinking—just tracing me. Absently. Tenderly. It does something to me, the way she touches me like she doesn’t have to think about it, like it’s second nature.
I press my forehead to hers. Breathe her in. “You want me to stay for a while?”
She hums, soft and sleepy. “Always.”
So I hold her tighter. Bury myself deeper and don’t move, because she’s exactly where she belongs.
Right here. With me.