Page 112 of Bidding War

I roll her over with a renewed sense of confidence. Now that we’ve established I can handle sex, I want to go for more. There’s no pain to slow me down, either. Maybe it’s the sex talking, but I don’t feel anything but her right now.

She stares up at me, looking mystified as I thrust into her. She’s so fucking wet with both of us that there’s no resistance. Her back arches, and her eyes flutter back as her throat blushes pink. I bite her there, and she groans for more. It’s perfect. She’s perfect. I can’t get enough of her.

I don’t think there could ever be enough.

June is my home. My person. She is my better half in every way. I am so lucky to have found this woman. I took a chance at that auction, and it was the best risk I have ever taken in my life. I bury myself to the base and promise, “I will do everything in my power to take care of you, June.”

She pants, “I know that.”

But I have to show her. I hook my arms around her shoulders from underneath and pump into her. We are as close as two people can be, but I wish we were somehow closer. More connected. I am addicted to this woman. Her body, her scent, her taste. I want it all. I need it all. There could never be another.

I arch myself at that angle that hits her spot just right, and she tenses beneath me, purring. I know the signs, and I keep pounding on her there. I have to make her mine. Forever.

I growl, “That’s it, baby. Come for me again.”

This time, her trembles are an earthquake. She gasps loudly, like a scream in reverse. Clawing at my back, her thighs squeeze around me as she comes on me. When her pussy clenches rhythmically on my cock, she brings me with her. My balls seize, and my spine lights up as I come again. I know everyone must think such things, but I feel bad for every other man who exists because none of them will ever have June. No one else will get to feel this way. I could weep for them.

But she’s mine. All mine. I smirk to myself as I roll off of her.

Her voice is thrashed. “Pretty proud of yourself there, eh?”

“You could say that.”

She nuzzles my shoulder. “You should be. Injured or not, that was amazing.”

“Same to you.” I kiss her forehead. “I know there’s a ton of things to figure out going forward, but right now … I am here with you. In the moment. And it’s been a long time since I felt this good, so I am going to enjoy it and try not to overthink.”

She giggles. “Good luck with that. I find multiple orgasms will do that for you.”

“Multiple? I know you came a few times, but?—"

“I lost count.”

I kiss her again. “You know, just what to say to a guy.”

She laughs. “And with that, I have to go clean up, and we probably need to change the sheets when I come back. You game?”

I hate changing the sheets. “Not sure if I can. I got shot a while back, and?—"

She laughs harder at that and heads for the bathroom. “If you have the strength to dirty the sheets, you have the strength to change them with me, you big faker.” She closes the door behind herself.

I lay back and discover she has a point. There are wet spots everywhere. Still, life is good. With work getting back to normal and June as my bride, things feel complete. Like I am on the right track.

She emerges, naked and sated, and the sight of her stills the breath in my chest. “What?”

“You. Always you.”

She smiles, then bails for the closet. “The blue set or the other blue set?”

“I like consistency.”

“So you bought three sets of identical sheets?”

“Yes.”

She snickers and comes out with her selection. We change the sheets out and bed down for the night. “Aren’t fresh sheets better?”

They are, but I’ll never admit it. “The others were fine. You could have slept in the wet spot, and I?—"