Page 71 of Westin

It’snotcheating.

My hands shake. I sat on that hill with her just out of my reach for weeks. I beat myself up. I felt like less of a man for not going after her, and I know now that, whatever it takes, she’ll be mine.

Thomas is temporary, a dead man walking.

I’ll be the father of her children.

She gasps as I sink over her body, mouth dragging up her throat. Blinded with desire, I shove my zipper down. She cries out when my teeth graze where her neck meets her shoulder.

I waited. I watched. I wanted.

Her pupils blow as I push inside her, and my vision flashes. My lower spine arches as I drive deeper, letting her hot pussy pull me in until our bodies are tangled together on the grass.

Now she’s mine.

Her skin tastes just as I remember it: soft, sweet. She’s sunshine in human form, like lemons and whiskey and sugar, and I eat her alive with my body, thrusting hard, nothing on my brain.

We spiral together. Desire rolls in waves with my body, crashing into us, taking our breath away.

I roll to my back, holding her hips to straddle me. All hesitancy has faded. Her chin rises and her lips part. Her lids flutter and her eyes roll back as a moan falls from her lips.

It’s good—so good, it doesn’t feel real.

Her hair falls down her back, rippling as her body rises and falls. I’m buried deep, and she takes me. I wonder if it hurts, but if it does, she loves it. Our bodies are soaked where they meet. She’s wetter than she has ever been.

My fingers dig into her hips, making sure she keeps every inch inside as she rides me.

Her palm falls flat on my chest. Her spine arches and her eyes widen.

Her pussy tightens, pulses, and then she comes undone, clenching hard around me. She freezes for a breath before her body starts shaking. I slam her down onto my cock, taking her as she wrings every wave of pleasure out.

“Fuck, you need this,” I gasp.

“No,” she whimpers, eyes meeting mine, big and brown beneath those heavy lids. “I needed you.”

My neck prickles. I flip her again and lift her leg up, slinging it over my elbow. Her eyes roll back as I start pounding as deep as I can get.

But it’s not enough.

It’s never enough.

Nothing can express what I felt being so close but so far. I can fuck her body for hours, but I really want to fuck her soul. Somehow, that still feels out of reach. My eyes fall, and I see it: a silver wedding band on her finger.

I don’t even know what I feel. Anger? Disgust?

Murderous rage.

Without thinking, I pull it from her finger and toss it to where my belt lies. Her naked hand curls, but I grip her wrist and pin it over her head. My hips work, pounding her into the ground.

Mine. My woman.

She drags her nails up my back. I fuck her pussy, my mouth on her throat. I want to eat her alive, consume her until we’re so deeply entangled, I can feel her breath in my lungs.

But I can’t leave a mark on her body.

I roll onto my back again, taking her with me. She rides me hard, her tits bouncing. Her eyes are glassy as she chases another orgasm. Inner muscles clamp around my cock, growing tighter. The grass around us is beaten down. It’ll be obvious to anyone who comes across this patch of land what happened here.

“Good girl,” I pant. “Make yourself come on my cock, darling.”

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