Page 123 of The Fix

“You were promising me something else.” He groans. “Open those gorgeous eyes and tell me you’re fucking mine.”

Chest constricting, I open my eyes and nod.

“Say you’re mine, Mama.” He growls his words, his eyes as intense as his hips slapping against mine, and a threatening orgasm swirls in my lower belly.

“I-I-I’m yours, Toby. Oh God.” My back arches, my body desperate to get as close as possible.

As if understanding me without the words, he leans in and shoves an arm underneath my neck, his chest flattening against mine.

His shuddering breath crests the shell of my ear, making my body shiver, and my muscles clench. “Anna,” he grunts. “I’m in fucking love with you. And I promise I’ll remind you every day, for the rest of my life.”

I gasp.

My orgasm doesn’t get the memo that my heart is bursting and barrels over me like a tsunami.

“That’s it, naughty girl.” He pants. “Come on my cock.”

I couldn’t stop if I tried.

My hips roll against him, my mouth letting lose all kinds of incoherent noises with each slam.

“Right here, Mama,” he pants out. “Ready to fill this dripping cunt with my cum.”

“Yes, yes.”

“That’s my girl.” He arches back, only to drive forward and cry out.

With a swelling heart and his cries of pleasure in my ear, I let the man I’m in love with come inside me.

Claim me.

Fill me in every way possible.

I knew I’d never be the same again after Toby.

Chapter Sixty-Five

Anna

“Girl,” Aria mutters with a knowing smirk.

I grumble and shuffle my way past her to the kitchen, where I snag a pan and throw it on the stove to heat up. “Need cocoa.”

“I bet you do, woman, Jesus.”

My feet shuffle toward the fridge, my steps unsteady from the ache Toby left behind. I gather all the ingredients to craft my morning beverage, a replica of the one Toby made for me at the cabin, which softens my already gentle smile even more.

Have I tried to remake it every day since? Yes.

Has it ever come out the same? Nope.

Will I ever tell him that? No.

“So?” she asks from behind her steaming mug, the scent of roasted beans wafting through the air, as I finally turn and lean against the countertop across her seated form. Even in the barstool, she seems taller than me and—

Wait.

My wide eyes land on the Tupperware of cheese left on the counter between us, a few of the cubes plotting their escape across the marble, and I feel all the heat rush to my face.

---