Page 95 of Craving Cooper

This morning has been a lot less rushed. I guess it’s helped that my first appointment isn’t until nine, but Mallory having her things here has been the biggest factor. We didn’t need to discuss who was gonna shower where, and more importantly, she didn’t have to leave. I’ve so enjoyed watching her get dressed and prepare herself for the day, although I’ll admit, it’s a struggle to keep my hands to myself.

“You can’t possibly want to go again,” she says as I come up behind her in the bedroom. She’s fully dressed and so am I, but I can’t resist, and I rest my hands on her hips, flexing mine so she can feel my arousal.

“Why not?”

She spins in my arms, smiling up at me. “Because you’re the one who keeps reminding me how old you are, and that you take longer to recover.”

“Evidently not, when I’m with you.”

“Does that mean it’s gonna be like this all the time, when I move in?”

“Probably. Why? Is that a problem?”

“No. I’m just checking. I’d hate to be disappointed.”

I narrow my eyes at her, although I’m still smiling. “I hope I never disappoint.”

She shakes her head, putting her arms around my waist as she leans against me. “Never,” she whispers, and I hold her close.

“And you still wanna move in?”

She tips her head back, looking up at me. “Yes, I do.”

I smile. “That’s not just because I made you come four times last night, and three this morning?”

“Absolutely, it is.”

We both laugh and I pull her back against me, rocking her gently from side to side and loving every second of this… of what we’ve got. I might not know how we got here, or have been able to put any of it into words yet, but I won’t give it up.

I won’t give her up.

Not for anyone, or anything

She pulls back again, looking up at me. “I’ve just gotta feed the cat, and we can go downstairs.”

I glance around the room, noting she’s already made the bed. “You didn’t have to do that.” I nod toward it and she smiles.

“I don’t mind.”

“Are you always so tidy?”

She nods her head. “It comes from living in spaces that aren’t your own.”

“This is yours, Mallory,” I say, waving my arms around. “If you wanna make a mess, make a mess. No-one’s gonna tell you off.”

“This is mine?” she says, her voice little more than a whisper.

“Yes. The bed, the room, the apartment. It’s all yours.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. And I’m all yours, too. Every fucking inch of me.” I pull her close, rolling my hips into hers as I’m speaking and she moans softly, then lets out a long sigh.

“Can I make a mess of you later?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” she says, and leans up, kissing me. Hard.

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