Page 105 of Westin

Instead of answering, I climb onto his lap in the chair and straddle him. He inhales sharply, his hands sliding over my hips.

I pull the flannel over my head and toss it to the floor.

“Goddamn,” he says reverently.

Up until now, sex with him was a guilty pleasure. We did it quickly, knowing he had to leave or with the heavy cloud of Thomas over our heads. For the first time, our bodies touch, and there’s no one but us in the room.

No guilt, no fear, no shame.

“Do you remember when you said you like when I called you sir?” I whisper.

“Yes.” The words are hoarse.

I slip my hand down over his naked chest, scarred, with short, coarse hair. Warm and so safe.

“Please, fuck me,” I say aloud. “Sir.”

I can’t see his face, just the glint of his eyes. He spits into his hand and slips it between my thighs. Rough fingertips touch where I ache. My head falls back, and a moan works its way out. Then, he pushes down the front of his sweatpants.

He’s hot and hard against my sex. I wrap my hand over his, around his length.

He feels like life.

Together, we guide his cock between my legs. I gasp, and he swears under his breath as the head slips inside. I’m soaked, but it still twinges as he stretches me to take him.

“Take me, darling,” he says, voice dropping to a rasp.

My hands move to his chest, nails digging in. He takes me by the waist and fucks up into me until every inch of his cock is buried in my pussy, until I swear I feel the head of his cock stroking against my cervix, giving me a hint of pain with my pleasure.

He makes me want that edge.

“What does it feel like for you?” I gasp.

He rocks me on his length. “Inside you? You feel like velvet. Warm, tight, so wet.”

My head falls back, and the ceiling swims.

“Grip me, darling,” he tells me.

I obey, tightening my muscles around him. He groans, fucking harder. High with pleasure, I reach between our bodies. He slows, letting me explore where we join together.

My pussy is soft, and it wraps around his hard, veined cock. Our heartbeats thump as one. My fingers come away wet. He catches my wrist, licking them clean.

“You taste so sweet,” he rasps.

He takes me around the waist and lifts me. Still inside, we move to the floor before the fire and sink down. There’s a soft rug beneath my body, Westin over it. To my left, the fire flickers.

Maybe I could find pure happiness with him right here, on the floor by the fire, in a world where it’s too cold for anything bad to happen. Deliriously, I believe it.

“Please,” I beg.

My reservations are gone. I want it the way it used to be—intoxicating and new. He pulls from me and kicks off his pants. Then, he kneels, drawing my hips onto his thighs. In the firelight, I can seehis eyes roll back as he pushes his cock into me. Warmth seeps deep into my veins.

“Mine,” he says. “My girl.”

There’s no room for argument. I don’t want to protest tonight. Tomorrow, we can figure out the farm and our future. Tonight, our bodies are finding each other again.

He fucks me hard, hips rising and falling, sweat etching down his chest and stomach, head back and eyes heavy.

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