Katie
Upstairs, I put on a pair of those fancy ass silk pajamas Michael got me and slip into bed with Wilder.
I’m two hundred pages in when the bedroom door opens.
I toss the book aside and move before I even glance over.
I know it’s him. He barely gets a step inside before I jump, and he catches me, laughing as my legs lock around his waist.
“Miss me?” he asks, his hands sliding up my thighs to keep me locked against him.
I press my face into his neck. “Just a little.”
“Liar,” he mutters, rubbing his nose against my hair. “You eat yet?”
“Yeah. Beatrice wouldn’t let me skip. I made her sit down and eat with me though,” I say, grinning as I play with the collar of his shirt.
His brows lift while he starts toward the bed. “You made her?”
“Please.” I lean back enough to look at him. “She loves me. I’m her favorite.”
“Sure you are,” he says dryly, one hand smoothing down my back.
“Have fun with Rosalia?”
“A blast.” My mouth twitches. “I’ve gotten her addicted to sexy cowboys.”
He groans before I can even laugh, tightening his hold on me as he reaches the bed. “Oh, God. Now there are two of you.”
He carefully sets me down before following, bracing himself over me.
“Oh, what’s this?” I lift a brow.
“Exactly what you think it is,” he mutters, tugging his tie loose.
His gaze flicks toward the abandoned book beside me before returning to my face.
“You’ve spent all night reading filthy cowboy books.” His hand slides slowly up my thigh. “Now you’ve got me in the mood to act like one.”
“I like it when you come home like this.”
His tie is already gone, his shirt following, his focus shifting to his belt. I start to lift my shirt, but his hand closes around my wrist, stopping me.
“No,” he says, eyes on me. “I’ll take care of that.”
A shiver runs through me. It doesn’t matter how many times Michael Amato has fucked me. I still come undone for him every single time.
He pushes his clothes off, then turns his attention to me.
My pajama bottoms disappear under his hands, followed by my panties.
He takes his time lifting my shirt over my head, then unhooks my bra, sliding it away.
He crosses my hands above my head and leans in, close enough that his voice brushes my ear.
“Are you going to be a good girl?”
His mouth trails down my neck, and I can’t stay still.
“I’ll be such a good girl,” I say, already squirming beneath him.
That’s all it takes. He nudges my knees apart and thrusts into me.
“Oh, fuck. Michael!”
He fills me completely, and I gasp at the stretch.
“You’re always so tight for me,” he growls, starting to move—slow strokes that build the friction between us. I arch up, wrapping my legs tighter around his hips, pulling him closer.
His hands grip my thighs, holding me steady. I moan, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against my skin.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his breath ragged as he picks up the pace a little, his cock hitting that spot inside that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
I tremble beneath him.
“Michael, please,” I whisper.
He leans down, capturing my lips in a deep kiss, swallowing my cries as he drives harder, chasing our release together. When it hits, my orgasm pulses through me, until he follows. We collapse in a heap. His fingers stroke my side lazily, and I nuzzle into his chest.
“Welcome home,” I murmur, smiling as his chuckle rumbles against me.
“Well, those were my plans for tonight,” he says, still breathing unevenly. “What about you?”
“You owe me a movie night,” I say, nudging his side.
“Are we showering, or are you just going to have me inside you all night?”
I slap his chest.
“You’re so gross. I’m taking a shower.”
His laugh is loud and unfiltered, and I can’t help but laugh with him too. We stay tangled together for a few more minutes before I finally climb out of bed. He catches my wrist, trying to tug me back down with him, but I laugh and shake my head.
“Nuh-uh. You promised.”
He lets out a dramatic sigh. “Fine.”
He follows me into the bathroom and turns on both shower heads before I even step inside.
The second I do, his hands are on me again, pulling me flush against his chest. I press my face into his chest as the hot water spills down my back.
We stand there quietly for so long I start to wonder if he plans on letting me go at all.
“Babe, you okay?” I ask, tilting my head back to look at him.
His eyes stay closed for another second before he finally opens them.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Just tired. Work’s been a lot lately.”
“Well, lucky for you,” I say, sliding my arms tighter around him, “you have me to aggressively cuddle the stress away.”
He chuckles. “God, I love you so fucking much.”
He looks down at me, and I grin. “I know.”
I push onto my tiptoes, and he bends down to kiss me.
“This is the advantage of having me as your girlfriend,” I tell him once he pulls away.
He just looks at me after that. He doesn’t give me a smartass comment or tease. It’s just this soft, almost overwhelmed look I don’t quite know what to do with.
“Katie,” he says after a second, “you’re my best friend.”
I reach up and hold his face carefully between my hands.
“Yeah?” I whisper. “You’re mine too.”