Chapter 48
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
BECKETT
The urge to come overwhelms me, but I’m not letting go until I make sure my girl is totally addicted to me.
Elsie’s legs lock around my waist as I piston into her, making damn sure my pubic bone grinds her clit with every thrust. I’m so fucking hard, it feels like I’m about to split in two.
Her tits bounce with every stroke, nipples tight and begging for my mouth.
I palm one breast and roll the bud between my fingers, just to hear the breathy squeak she makes when I twist.
Her hair’s a wild mess on the pillow, her cheeks flushed and lips parted, and all I want is to own her. She clenches around me, slick and tight and so goddamn hot, I have to grit my teeth and choke back a groan before I come.
“God, Beckett, don’t stop,” she pants, her thighs trembling around my hips.
I slam in deeper, watching her mouth drop open as I hit her sweet spot.
“I’m not fucking stopping until you’re screaming my name and coming all over my cock,” I growl into her ear.
I slam in harder. Her head kicks back on the pillow, and she claws at my arms, nails leaving little crescent moon-shaped indentations in my skin. Holy hell, that’s hot.
Her tits bounce with every stroke. Fuck, I can’t get enough of watching her lose control for me.
I want to see her come undone a hundred times.
I drag my thumb down her belly and circle her clit, pinning her hips so she can’t escape.
She bucks against my cock, wild and desperate, riding the edge.
“That’s it, Elsie. Take every inch. You love how I fill you up, don’t you, sweetheart? ”
She loses her goddamn mind. Her back arches off the bed, tits thrust high, nipples begging for my mouth. I can’t resist. I dip down, suck one tight little bud between my lips and bite, just enough to make her squeal my name.
“Yes!” she cries, fingers tangling in my hair, yanking me closer, like she can’t stand even a millimeter of space between us.
Her pussy clamps down on my cock so fucking tight I almost lose it. Jesus. I have to grit my teeth and slam in harder, chasing that perfect friction. I want her wild. I want her wrecked. Every time I thrust, her soaked pussy milks my cock, and I know she’s right there on the edge.
“Fuck, Elsie. You were made for me.” I nuzzle her throat, biting down on her pulse point and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Elsie lets out a strangled moan and arches against me, her curvy body trembling under my hands. Fucking hell, this woman is driving me insane.
I scrape my teeth along her collarbone and kiss up the side of her neck, needing to taste every inch of her. Her flavor is sweet, addictive, pure heaven on my tongue. I want her to remember it tomorrow when she looks in the mirror and sees my claim stamped into her skin.
Her hands dig into my hair, yanking me closer. “Beckett, oh God, I’m so close.”
That’s what I want to hear. I bite her throat again, harder this time, then lick over the sting to soothe her.
“Come for me, Elsie. Let go,” I growl against her ear as I slam in deep, pinning her to the mattress so she can’t run from the pleasure.
I keep my thumb right there on her clit, circling slow, steady, relentless.
She clenches around my cock, and I know she’s about to lose her mind for me.
The way her pussy grips me, hot and desperate, just about undoes me.
I slam in deep, grinding my hips, wanting to make damn sure there’s never a single doubt in her mind who she belongs to.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I grit out, my voice gone full caveman.
Holy fuck. The second her inner muscles clamp down on my cock, I lose it.
I bury myself deep, hold her right there, and roar her name as I come so hard I see stars.
Her pussy milks me, squeezing every last drop, and I swear I’ve never felt anything like this in my life.
It’s not just sex. It feels like she rewired my entire goddamn nervous system.
Elsie cries out, shuddering as she comes with me, slick and hot, soaking my cock and driving me even crazier. I thrust through it, not stopping until I’ve wrung every last pulse of pleasure out of both of us. My brain short-circuits, and for a few seconds, all I can do is gasp and hold on.
When the aftershocks finally let go, I collapse next to her and haul her into my arms. She fits perfectly, all soft and sweet, her heart racing against my chest. I hold her tight, breathing in her sweet scent, and all I can think about is how fucking lucky I am.
Elsie feels so damn good in my arms, soft and warm and still shivering.
I brush her messy hair off her cheek. I can’t resist running my thumb along her flushed skin, needing to stake my claim everywhere I can. “You’re mine now, sweetheart,” I murmur against her ear, and she squirms closer, like she can’t stand any distance between us.
I’m obsessed. I’m fucking obsessed.
Her wild hair spills across my arm as she burrows into me, breathing hard, her body soft and limp against my side. I keep her close, never letting go, because she belongs to me now. Every inch. Every heartbeat. Every gorgeous, greedy sound she makes.
She shudders as I drag my fingers down her sweat-damp spine, memorizing the way her skin still quivers under my touch. I want to brand her. I want her to wake up tomorrow, look in the mirror, and remember exactly who made her come apart like that.
I bury my nose in her tangled hair and inhale, letting her scent fill up my lungs like oxygen. I’m never going to get enough.
I roll to my side and drift off to sleep with her pinned against my side.
At some point, I wake up to find there’s a mountain of wild, tangled red hair covering my face.
For a split second, I wonder if I died and this is what heaven looks like.
I blink, clearing the sleep haze, and realize Elsie’s draped across my torso like a naked, snoring octopus.
She’s drooling on my shoulder and, somehow, has taken the entire blanket hostage.
I fucking love it.
I tug her closer, nuzzling my face into her hair and kissing the tip of her ear just to hear her little sleepy groan. She mumbles something about “five more minutes” and tries to burrow deeper beneath my arm, completely oblivious to the fact that my morning wood is begging for attention.
She’s soft and warm and absolutely perfect.
I want to sleep with her in my arms every single night for the rest of my life.
I tuck Elsie in tight against my chest and drift back off.
When I finally open my eyes again, it’s to the soft glow of morning light and the unmistakable sound of a cat screaming bloody murder outside the bedroom door.
“Fucking hell,” I groan, not ready to let go of my girl, but Mr. Snugglebutt is singing the song of his people at the top of his lungs.
The cat’s yowling and scratching like he’s about to claw through solid wood just to get to us.
Elsie doesn’t even stir. She’s curled up so perfectly in my arms, looking like she’s never been more relaxed in her life.
I stare at the ceiling, grinning like a fool. This is my life now. Me, my girl, and the world’s most psychotic cat demanding breakfast at six fucking a.m.
Absolutely goddamn perfect.