Page 159 of One Big Little Secret

I feel his chest swell as he inhales.

“Goddammit. Have I ever told you how hot you are?” He reaches around me, trailing warm fingers along my stomach and dipping down, skating across my thighs and drawing circles on my hips.

My legs open, encouraging his fingers to find their way home.

“So eager.” He chuckles, the sound low and dark in my ear. “You’re going to spoil my fun.”

“Oh, the things I have in mind won’t spoil anything.”

Finally, he reaches the sweet spot between my legs.

I gasp at the contact when his thumb grazes my clit.

“Not so loud.” I swear I can feel his smile as he nips my ear.

As he slides his fingers through my slickness, I arch my back and twist my hips, just enough so his cock nudges my entrance.

The hand on my breast hesitates for a second as I roll and wiggle myself onto him.

Oh, just the tip.

I need to feel him.

It barely lasts before he sucks my throat, adding his teeth.

“You tease,” he groans, taking my hips and sliding me the rest of the way down.

Heaven.

He fills me, stretching my walls in the best way.

The eye-rolling moan that slips out of me tastes like pure melted honey.

We’ve fucked so many ways by now, but this is one of my favorites.

Softly.

Quietly.

Nothing between our slick, steaming flesh except the want boiling the air.

It’s a claiming, tender and intense, yet so different from the drunken excitement of our first time or the heated wildness of other romps. Here, in the moment, joined by our bodies, we’re one.

He nips my neck again—not hard enough to draw blood, but with just enough evil intensity. Shock mingles with the pleasure building in my core.

“Never forget you’re mine,” he rumbles, coiling my hair in his fist.

I think it’s a substitute for the three little words neither of us are ready to say.

“Yours,” I whisper, hearing his breath go ragged as his thrusts quicken.

“Say it again.”

For a hot minute, I can’t.

Especially when he does that thing where his thrusts jackhammer, quickening abruptly as he brings me soclose.

“Yours, yours.” My breath hitches. “Patton, please.”

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