Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
ANNISTON
We pull up to the cabin in the dead of night, the truck’s headlights cutting through the dark before Banks kills the engine.
The silence that follows feels heavy, loaded with everything we just found at the factory.
And everything we’ve just said to each other.
My hands are still shaking a little as I unbuckle my seatbelt.
Banks sits there for a second, staring straight ahead, the pocket knife and the note from his father resting on the console between us like a live wire.
I reach over and rest my hand on his thigh. “Hey. We’re here. We’re safe.”
He turns to me, those gray-blue eyes dark with exhaustion and something deeper.
Something that looks a lot like the same storm I feel inside my own chest. Without another word he gets out, comes around to my side, and lifts me straight out of the seat.
I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me inside, kicking the door shut behind us.
The moment it clicks closed, his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is slow and sensual. And I kiss him back just as hard.
Just as slow. I want to pour every bit of feelings I have for him into it.
I thread my fingers through his hair and hold on as he walks us straight to the couch and lowers me onto it without ever breaking the kiss.
His hands slide under my shirt, warm and calloused against my skin, and I arch into him, needing more.
“Anniston,” he murmurs against my lips. “I fucking need you.”
I shake my head, pulling him closer. “I need you too. More than you’ll ever know.”
He groans softly and kisses me harder, tongue stroking mine in long, sensual strokes that make heat pool low in my belly.
His hands move slowly, reverently, like he doesn’t want to break me.
He peels my shirt off and tosses it aside, then his mouth is on my breasts, licking and sucking gently until I’m moaning and writhing beneath him.
He takes his time, lavishing attention on each nipple until they’re tight and aching.
“So fucking perfect,” he whispers, voice rough. “Every single part of you. I can’t get enough.”
I push at his shoulders until he sits back on the couch.
I slide down between his knees, looking up at him as I unbuckle his belt and open his jeans.
His eyes darken as he watches me. I free him, wrapping my hand around the thick length of his cock.
So big. So massive. I love it. Every fucking inch of it.
And trust me, there’s so many inches. Like we’re talking double digits.
He’s already hard, hot and heavy in my palm.
I lean forward and press a soft kiss to the tip before taking him into my mouth.
Banks lets out a low groan, his head falling back against the couch. “Fuck, Anniston…”
I take my time, savoring him. I lick him slowly from base to tip, then swirl my tongue around the head before sliding him deeper.
His hand comes to rest gently in my hair, not pushing, just holding.
I hollow my cheeks and suck, bobbing my head in a slow, steady rhythm while my hand strokes what I can’t fit in my mouth.
The sounds he makes, low and ragged, send fresh heat rushing between my thighs.
“You feel so goddamn good,” he rasps. “Look at you. So perfect with your mouth on me. God, baby, I love watching you like this.”
I moan around him, the vibration making his hips jerk. I keep going, taking him deeper, faster, until his breathing grows ragged and his fingers tighten in my hair. Just when I feel him getting close, he gently pulls me off and lifts me back onto his lap.
“Not yet,” he says, voice strained. “I need to be inside you when I explode.”
He strips the rest of our clothes away until we’re both bare.
Then he lays me down on the couch, settling between my thighs.
He looks down at me, eyes dark with emotion.
“I know in the truck I told you I was falling for you, well I think I finally landed. I’m right where I always want to be.
With you. I don’t know how it happened so fast, but it did.
And right now I need to feel you. All of you. ”
I pull him down for a kiss as he pushes inside me, slow and deep. We both moan at the same time. The stretch is perfect, the fullness overwhelming in the best way. He stays buried to the hilt for a long moment, forehead pressed to mine, breathing with me.
“You feel like home,” he whispers.
Then he starts moving. Long, slow, sensual strokes that make my toes curl.
There’s no rush. No desperation. Just a deep, loving connection.
His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek as he kisses me between thrusts.
Every roll of his hips drags against that perfect spot inside me, building pleasure in slow, shimmering waves.
“You’re everything,” he murmurs against my lips. “So tight. So warm. So perfect around me. I could stay right here forever.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.
We move together in a slow, sensual rhythm, skin sliding against skin, breaths mingling.
He keeps praising me in that low, rough voice, telling me how precious I am, how much he wants me, how he’s never letting me go.
The pleasure builds steadily, wrapping around us like warm silk.
When I come it’s soft and deep, rolling through me in long, pulsing waves. I cling to him, moaning his name as I tighten around him. Banks groans, hips stuttering as he follows me over the edge, burying himself deep and staying there as he pulses inside me.
We stay locked together, breathing hard, hearts pounding against each other. He kisses me softly, over and over, on my lips, my cheeks, my forehead. Then he shifts us so I’m tucked against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around me.
“I meant it,” he says quietly, stroking my back. “I’m keeping you. When this is all over, I want you with me. For good.”
I smile against his skin, feeling safer and more loved than I have in years. “I want that too. So much.”
We lie there tangled together on the couch, the cabin quiet around us, the weight of the note and the knife and everything still waiting for us sitting in the background. But right now, in this moment, there’s only us. Only this. Only the beginning of something real and beautiful.
God, I love this man.