Page 37 of Secret Bump

I do. I do know. But it’s so scary to even think the words. I can’t say them yet, even when he ducks his head and pulls my clit back into his mouth.

He’s mine, though… I can marvel at that undeniable fact.Mr. Emerson is mine again.

“That’s it,” he groans against my flesh between sucks. “Fuck, you’re sexy. Gonna kiss this pussy goodnight every day now.”

My clit throbs, straining, and with his next pull, I shatter.

He catches me, keeping me safe, and as the aftershocks rocket through my body, he rolls us under the blankets and tucks me firmly in against his big, warm body.

“What about you?” I mumble, sliding my hand over his soft pants, tented over a very hard cock.

“That was for me,” he rumbles. He catches my wrist and brings it to his chest.

His heart thumps against my fingertips, racing just like my own is.

“God,” I whisper. “That was…”

“God doesn’t make you come like that, Isabelle. I do. Your pleasure is my pleasure, you understand?”

“Not really,” I admit sleepily.

He smiles and kisses my forehead. “I’ll show you. Every single day.”

Chapter 20

Mack

I don’t sleep.I don’t care, either. I hold her all night long, my cock rock hard, my heart full. She’s so fucking soft when she’s asleep, warm and little in my arms.

When she wakes up, the smile she gives me feels like the first sunrise after a year of rain.

“Good morning,” she whispers.

It really fucking is.

“Are we going to work today?”

“Do you want to?” I squeeze her hip, thinking about eating her out again.

My cock strains toward her and she giggles. “Mack, you’re hard.”

I roll out of bed before I do something stupid like put that thing inside her.All in good time, cock. All in good time.

“Come back,” she begs.

Fuck.

I turn and her gaze drops to the erection tenting my pants.

“Please,” she whispers.

Fuck fuck.

I crawl back into bed and she pulls me on top of her. We make out as she humps against my covered dick. I lose myself in her, and when she finds her release, I follow, spilling inside my pants like a teenager.

“Oops,” she says when I flop onto my back, laughing at the wet mess.

“Shower time.”

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