Page 45 of Winning Bid

But my balls threaten to bring the fun to an end. She’s so tight and so sweet that it’s hard to resist. Then her pealing cry erupts from her perfect mouth as she comes, and I’m so fucking proud I got two out of her like this that I join her, pumping myself into her. I want to fill her up with me, and for a fleeting moment, there’s that thought again. The only one I have when we’re like this.

I want to see her belly swell with my child.

It’s a strange and primitive thing, this thought. Equal parts marking my territory and connecting us eternally. Fuck, I want that with her. I crave that forever bond with June, and I will have it one day. But not now.

As we pant in the dark, frigid forest, I slide out of her. She takes a moment to find her words. “That … cold. So cold?—"

I scoop her up in my arms and carry her back into the cabin this time, and she races into the bathroom. When she comes out, I wrap her in blankets and spoon her on the thick, shaggy rug in front of the fireplace. As she turns around, some bark abrasions are visible on her back, but it’s nothing too worrisome. Once her teeth stop chattering, I stroke up and down her arm, confident my cold hand won’t make things worse. “Was that okay?”

A small laugh burbles out of her. “Is that a serious question?”

“Yes.”

“That was … Anderson, I’m not sure if there are words for that.”

“In a good way?”

She nods.

“I was worried I might have hurt your back or?—"

“Oh, it did. But I kinda liked it.”

“A little edge of pain to spice things up?”

Another nod. June isn’t terribly shy about what she likes in the bedroom if it’s something standard. But when it comes to anything remotely kinky, she’s a church mouse. That’s okay. We have all the time in the world to help her with that.

We lay by the fire a bit longer, and her snores come fast. It’s the most peaceful I’ve heard her in a long time, and I am glad I could do that for her. My girl needs some peace in her life. I carry her to bed, and when my eyes close, I dream of her lips all night long. The perfect ending to a perfect night.

24

JUNE

There is something about waking up in Anderson’s arms that sets my heart at ease. Warm sunlight pokes at the edges of the dark gray curtain, beaming a laser onto his naked hip. When I look down, I realize I’ve stolen nearly all the blankets. That’s his fault. If he hadn’t carried me to the tree, I might have let him have some blanket.

If he hadn’t carried me to the tree, though, I wouldn’t have had the most amazing orgasm of my life.

Seriously, that was incredible. He said it last night—that added touch of pain spiced things up. It felt as though my whole body was coming, from the bottom of my feet up to the ends of my hair. Even my fingernails had their own orgasms. I have never experienced anything like it.

I want to again. And again, and again …

Oh, boy, he might have made an addict out of me. Well, if I keep jumping on his dick, he has only himself to blame. But for now, cuddles.

I bury my face against his chest, lingering in the shallow valley between his square pecs. He’s on his side, so that makes it easier. This close to him, I get a hint of his natural scent and let it permeate my lungs. If I had only one thing to smell for the rest of my life, I’d pray it was this.

And not a penitentiary cell at a women’s correctional facility.

I know we said we were putting a pin in all of that, and last night, that flimsy idea held out long enough for crazy good sex, but mornings are always filled with dread, aren’t they? The dread of what the day might bring…I try to squash my anxiety and worries by pretending they don’t exist. That it’s just us here. That there isn’t a world outside the cabin’s walls. I take several deep breaths of Anderson and can almost fool myself into believing it. I have this weird urge to roll around on him, so I smell like him, too. But when his arm tightens on my back, I know he’s waking up, so I don’t have much time for that.

Anderson kisses the top of my head and lets out a muffled, “Good morning,” that sounds more like, “G’emorn.”

“Good morning,” I purr up at him, wondering what other surprises he has in store for me.

But then his stomach snarls like a mangy beast. It’s so loud that he starts laughing. “Well, that is not how I intended to start the day.”

“Normally, it’s me who has the growly stomach. Are you okay?”

“Fine, I think. But last night burned a lot of calories, and my body is telling me all about it. I am famished.”

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