Page 147 of The Plus One Contract

“I love you, Sienna.”

She chokes on a gasp, her fingers digging into the sheets.

I thrust harder, managing a small smile as I look down at her.

“I’ve loved you from the second you threw that damn napkin at me.”

She lets out a breathless, broken laugh, her body trembling beneath mine before I feel her tense around my cock.

She comes hard, her body gripping me so tight I swear I’m seeing stars.

I follow her over the edge, swearing her name, every muscle shaking.

When we both come back down, the only sound is our ragged breathing.

Then she whispers it back, soft but certain. “I love you too.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Not because I don’t believe it, but because it still fucking wrecks me to hear it.

Pulling her against my chest, I bury my face in her hair.

Six months, and I’m completely addicted. Still hers. And I don’t give a damn who knows it.

Epilogue

Ten years later

Sienna

“Blackjack!”

The safeword rips from my throat, my voice hoarse from laughter, my entire body curling into a ball on the floor as I struggle to catch my breath.

Nathan doesn’t stop. His strong hands find my waist again, fingers relentless as they dig into my ribs, targeting my most ticklish spots.

“This,” he says in my ear, voice low and amused, “is not how we use safe words.”

“Then stop attacking me!” I shriek, kicking out and trying to wriggle free.

He’s stronger, faster, far too proud of himself.

He laughs this deep, sinful sound I’ll never tire of, and finally relents, letting me go. I flop onto my back before I glare up at him. His dark eyes gleam with mischief, his mouth curled in that wicked grin. He leans over me, hands on either side of my head.

“Truce?” I manage to breathe between half-sobs of laughter.

He cocks his head, pretending to think it over.

“Tempting,” he drawls, dragging a knuckle across my cheek with deceptive gentleness. Then, without warning, he strikes again, his fingers pressing into my sides.

I screech, rolling onto my stomach to shield myself, but it’s useless. We tumble in a tangle of limbs.

“Again, again!”

That tiny, excited voice cuts through the chaos, making Nathan go still.

I’m still breathless as I glance over to see our daughter, Clara, standing a few feet away, clapping her small hands, her curly hair bouncing with every hop.

Nathan’s gaze softens instantly.

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