Page 194 of The Right Move

“You’re going to ruin me,” she whimpers.

“I already have. This is mine.” I push into her.

She moans.

“Tell me.”

I thrust again.

“Tell me that every part of you is mine.”

“Yes. I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.”

Evening out my tempo, I press my chest to hers, kissing her lips and whispering all the things I adore about her in her ear. She wraps her arms around me, and I do the same, wedging my hands between her body and the mattress to hold her as tightly to me as possible while I allow my body to show her just how much I love her.

And then she comes.

So prettily. So quietly, like it was just for me to experience with her.

She keeps her eyes on me as she does, and I watch her through it. Her dropped mouth, her contracting muscles. And then those muscles tighten around me, clenching my cock and pulling out my own orgasm.

I push inside of her one more time and come.

It’s overwhelming. Her skin on mine. How much I love this woman. I’m almost dizzy with blurred vision as her body pulls every last drop I have to give. It’s euphoric and calming at the same time. This woman ruined me the day she walked into that apartment, then she brought me back to life soon after, and I’m hers. I’ve always been hers.

Falling on top of her, she holds me, our chests rising and falling together.

“I love you,” I murmur into her neck.

“I love you.”

Slowly, I pull out and watch as my cum drips out and down her body. With a single finger, I collect it, pushing it back in, and loving the way it looks to have me inside of her.

I’m fairly certain I growl or some shit. I don’t know. Some possessive caveman noise comes out of my throat at the sight in front of me.

“Did you just develop a breeding kink, Shay?”

Quickly nodding, I keep my eyes locked on her open legs. “I think so. Give me ten and let’s do that again.”

She laughs, such a lovely sound tickling my ears.

I’m going to stay here all night, naked with the love of my life in our home. Or at least that’s what I was planning before the doorbell rings.

My eyes snap up to hers. “Who’s that?”

Indy’s head jerks to the clock on the nightstand. “Oh shit! I should’ve told them an hour later than I did!”

Frantically, she jumps off the bed, grabbing her bra and dress to throw on.

I’m not sure why, but I follow her lead, redressing as quickly as possible. “Told who?”

Guiltily, she looks back at me over her shoulder. “Everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Well, everyone in our circle. You bought this house to get away from the chaos of the city, but also because you wanted a place to spend time with your friends and family without feeling like you’re constantly being watched. I just figured”—she hesitates—“there’s no better way to break in this house than celebrating Chicago making the playoffs for the first time in six years.”

The doorbell rings again and I follow her down the stairs. As she opens the front door, Indy adjusts her bra and I focus on rezipping my pants only to find Zanders and my sister waiting on the front step.

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