Chapter 3 #3
He slides two fingers inside me and I cry out. He works me slowly, curling his fingers just right, his thumb still circling. Pleasure builds fast and hot. I am already close, trembling beneath him.
"That is it," he murmurs against my ear. "Let me feel you come on my fingers."
His words push me over the edge. I shatter, crying out his name, my body clenching around his fingers. He works me through it, drawing out every wave of pleasure until I am boneless and gasping.
Before I can catch my breath, he is positioning himself between my thighs. The head of his cock presses against my entrance. He pauses, looking down at me with an intensity that steals what little breath I have left.
"You are mine, Sadie." His voice is rough. Possessive. "Say it."
"I am yours," I whisper.
He pushes inside me in one slow, deep thrust. I gasp at the stretch, the fullness. He is big and it is almost too much, but my body adjusts, welcoming him. He groans, his forehead dropping to mine.
"Fuck. You feel so good." He pulls back and thrusts again, deeper this time. "So tight. So perfect."
He sets a rhythm, slow and deep, each thrust deliberate.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
Deeper. He buries his face in my neck, breathing hard.
Something breaks loose in him. He pulls out and flips me onto my stomach in one smooth motion.
His hands grip my hips, pulling me up onto my knees.
Then he’s inside me again, deeper from this angle, and I cry out into the pillow.
"That is it," he growls, one hand fisting in my hair, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. "Take all of me."
He pounds into me, hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. I am moaning with every thrust, pushing back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke. His hand slides around to my clit, rubbing tight circles, and I am already climbing again.
"Come for me," he commands. "Let me feel you."
I shatter again, harder this time, my whole body shaking with the force of it. He follows me over, groaning my name as he comes deep inside me. His hips jerk against mine, riding out every last wave.
We collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. He pulls me against his chest, both of us breathing hard. His hand strokes up and down my back in slow, possessive circles. I can feel his heart pounding against my cheek.
"You are mine," he says again, quieter this time. "And I am yours. That is not changing."
I tilt my head up to look at him. His hazel eyes are soft but certain. I trace a finger along his jaw. "I do not want it to change."
He kisses me then, slow and deep. A promise. When we break apart, he pulls the sheet over us and tucks me against his side. I settle into him, the rightness of it sinking into my bones.
"I want you beside me every night," he murmurs into my hair. "Right here in this bed. In this house. But it is your choice. Always. You can stay in the guest room. You can leave tomorrow if you want. I will still help you however I can."
I lift my head to meet his eyes. "I am not ready to leave yet. I like it here." I pause, then add with a small smile, "I like you."
He grins then, a real one that reaches his eyes and makes him look younger. "Good. Because I am not ready to let you go."
I settle back against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The mountain night is quiet outside. Inside, warmth spreads through me. For the first time in weeks, I am not thinking about running or hiding. I am exactly where I want to be.
brock
I leave Sadie sleeping in my bed the next morning.
The sun's barely up, but I've got an early shift at the station.
I stand in the doorway for a long moment, watching her.
Auburn hair spread across my pillow. One arm curled under her cheek.
The sheet draped over her curves. She looks peaceful. Safe. Mine.
The word hits me hard in the chest. Mine. I haven't thought that way about anyone in twenty years.
I pull the door closed quietly and head downstairs. The house feels different now, like something fundamental shifted overnight. I grab my keys and wallet, pour coffee into a travel mug. My hands are steady, but my mind isn't.
The drive to the station takes fifteen minutes down the mountain. I've made this trip thousands of times, but this morning everything feels different.
Twenty years ago, I thought I had it all figured out. I was twenty-six. Married to a woman I thought I loved. We had plans. A future mapped out. Then I came home early from a forty-eight-hour shift and found her in our bed with someone else. A guy from two towns over. Someone I didn't even know.
She didn't apologize. Just packed her things and left.
Moved away within a week. The whole town knew what happened, Silver Lake is small, and word spreads fast. People rallied around me.
Brought casseroles. Offered quiet support.
Told me I deserved better. But none of it fixed the hole she left behind.
It wasn't just the betrayal. It was the realization that I'd been completely blind. I thought we were solid. Thought she was happy. Thought I knew her. I was wrong about all of it. That kind of mistake makes a man careful. Makes him build walls so high nothing gets through.
For twenty years I kept those walls up. I worked. I led my crew. I lived alone in this house on the mountain and told myself I was fine. Relationships were for other people, people who could trust, people who weren't broken the way I was.
Until now, I believed that. I really did.