Page 145 of Branded Hearts

“B-Brad, what are we doing here? Whose place is this?” I ask, still trying to process.

He grins, holding up two keys. “Ours. This is our home.”

I’m speechless. “But... when? How?”

“I met with Rose a couple of weeks before you left for Sydney,” he says, stepping closer. “I signed the papers last week. Got the keys this morning. Mills, I bought this for us—because you’re the one I wantto spend my life with.”

Tears well in my eyes. “Bradley, you... bought ahouseforus. This is... I can’t believe it.”

“I knew straight away when I saw it for sale,” he says, stepping closer. “It was a decision I made right then and there. I didn’t even think about it; it just felt right. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it. I didn’t mean to overstep. I just know it’s you I want. We could get married, start a family, grow old together here—”

Before he can continue, I break into a huge smile and cut him off with a kiss, tears streaming down my cheeks. I pull back, “Brad. I’m not mad, and you didn’t overstep. This is... perfect. You’re perfect. I love you so much.”

He wraps his arms around me. “I love you too, Mills.”

I smirk playfully and tease, “Who’s the nervous yapper now?”

He chuckles and replies, “No one can know.”

I mime locking my lips and tossing away the key. “Come on, I’ll show you inside,” he says, already pulling me toward the door and unlocking it. I let him guide me inside, my curiosity sparking and heart racing. To my right, I spot a charming wooden love seat and a Monstera plant. As I step further in, Bradley closes the front door, revealing a cosy living room with wooden furniture, white couches, and a large antique rug. Natural light pours in from the sash windows, bathing the space in a warm glow. He follows me into the kitchen, where I trace my fingers along the smooth marble countertop. The cream wooden cabinets and grey-tiled backsplash complement the white walls and gleaming sink.

Bradley stands close behind me, brushing my hair away to kiss my neck, sending shivers down my spine. “Brad, this house is amazing,” I say, turning to face him.

He smiles, his hands sliding to my waist. Before I know it, he lifts me effortlessly onto the counter. The cool marble against my thighs makes me shiver. His lips find mine again, deepening the kiss. His fingers trail up my dress, brushing the inside of my thigh until they reach my underwear. I freeze. “Wait. What are you doing?” I whisper-yell, though there’s no one else around.

“What’s it look like? I’m going to fuck my girl inourkitchen,” he murmurs against my neck. “Want me to stop?”

I release a shaky breath. “No.”

His fingers slip beneath my underwear, and I instantly know I’m drenched. Just one kiss or touch from him has me completely aroused.

“Always so wet for me,” he growls. He eases a finger inside, and I moan as I arch my back. Another finger joins, moving in deliberate, measured strokes. Pleasure radiates through me, narrowing my world to just this moment with him.

His pace quickens, fingers working with increasing speed. I bite my lip to stifle my moans, but too he’s pulling his fingers away, leaving me panting. My eyes snap open as I hear the distinct sound of a zipper.

Bradley hoists my dress higher and tugs my underwear down, which I kick off onto the floor. I pull at his t-shirt as he swiftly pulls out his cock, lines himself up, and thrusts deep inside me. Hismovements are forceful and rhythmic, driving into me with quick, deliberate thrusts. He tugs at my straps to free my breasts, each motion intense and urgent.

My head falls back, and I cling to him. He whispers in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Tell me you love me again, Mills.”

“I love you,” I gasp, barely able to speak. “I love you, Bradley. I love you so much.” My words spill out in a fervent stream, like a prayer.

He growls, his thrusts gaining intensity. One hand braces on the bench, the other grips my hip. I lean back, letting him press me into the bench, his length pushing deeper, rubbing deliciously against my tight walls. The pressure builds to an unbearable peak.

“More, I need more,” I beg, my voice desperate.

Bradley takes a breast in his mouth, biting and sucking, making me moan loudly. He moves to the other, his mouth hot and insistent.

“Bradley, oh God,” I cry out, overwhelmed by the sensation. His pace quickens, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through me. His thrusts become erratic, and with a final, powerful thrust, I shatter around him, my release crashing over me and soon he’s following me over the edge, groaning my name as he comes deep inside me.

The hot rush of his release fills me, and I feel it drip onto my inner thigh. I’m on the pill now, have been for a few months, but his words about starting a family keep echoing in my mind. The idea of stopping it, of one day feeling a baby growing inside me—his baby, our child—sends a thrilling shiver down my spine.

One day.

Bradley stays inside me, our breaths mingling. His forehead restsagainst mine, eyes locked. “I love you,” he whispers, filled with emotion.

“I love you too,” I reply, my hands sliding up his back. “More than anything.”

He grins that lopsided grin. “You’re amazing, Mills. You know that?”

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