Page 121 of Stay for Me

My eyes drifted from him to the window, the rain finally coming to an end, only leaving a thin sheet of sprinkles now.

“Firefly,” he called.

“This was supposed to be a nice day. We agreed to have a nice day during breakfast, and I’m trauma dumping.”

He rubbed his nose up the column of my neck, his beard tickling my skin. “Yeah?” he whispered, “And I love it.”

My eyes shot back to him, wide now as the tears fell down the sides of my head. “You love this?”

He nodded, his face serious. “Being your safe space is the only thing I ever want to be. What you’re telling me isn’t great, and if I’m being honest, it’s making want to go hunt your fuckin’ parents and Lucas down—”

“You’re worse than, Denver,” I muttered, looking away from him again.

Slowly, his hand came to the front of my throat, his fingers manipulating my head to face his again. When he spoke, goosebumps scattered across every inch of my body, leaving no room for doubt. “Let me make myself clear, beautiful. Someone hurts you, they answer to me. Someone crosses you, they answer to me. Someone disrespects you, they answer to me. Someone insults you, they answer to me. There are many ways I can handle them, twenty that would make you want to puke up your breakfast, fifteen or so that would make you want to call a fuckin’ priest, and two that would make you want to run.”

I stared up at him, heart pounding.

“But I just got you, and there is no way in fuck I’m letting you go, so I’m not telling you the last two. Also not telling you the others because one, I don’t do religion, and two, I don’t want to see you sick,” he concluded.

“You’re worse than Denver,” I repeated on a breath.

A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes then. “Firefly, I’ll be the damn devil if necessary to keep you safe.”

“This conversation took a turn,” I whispered.

His eyes dropped to my lips, his cock hard against me once more. “It’s about to take another one,” he decreed.

My nipples tingled, pebbling just below his chest. He looked down, a rare but rough chuckle coming from somewhere deep in his massive chest. “Fuck, but you’re addicted to me too, aren’t you?”

His mouth was on mine before I could answer...

“Mags,”Igasped,myfingers gripping his sheets.

He groaned, the sound vibrating against my clit as he devoured me, his fingers fucking my pussy from behind. It was our third round, both of us slick with sweat, and he was about to make me come on his tongue for the fifth time. We’d spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon in his bed, catching up on all we’d missed.

“Taste like fuckin’ honey,” he growled as he pulled his fingers from me, his hands spreading my cheeks open, exposing me as his fingers dug into my flesh. I knew that tomorrow, I would wake up with his marks on me, and my heart fluttered.

I was on my hands and knees at the edge of the bed, my cowboy’s knees on the floor. He dragged his tongue from the tip of my clit, over my entrance, up to my ass. His tongue circled the sensitive hole, and my eyes rolled back, my breasts swaying as my hips moved, grinding back against his face.

He pulled away, leaving my body begging for more. “Please, Mags,” I whimpered.

“Goddamn—fuck.”

Then, I was twisted and in the air. I landed on my back close to the head board, a gasp leaving me. I was ready, so, so ready, for him. I needed it. I found him standing at the end of the bed, eyes on me, his thick, glorious cock in his hand, the silver ball shining in the light.

He pumped it twice, his eyes on my face, then two more times when they landed on my breasts.

“Mags,” I begged, curling my knees and spreading them open. “Please.”

Those dark eyes dropping to my core, flashing with hunger, and before I could stop him, his face was buried in my pussy again, his tongue flicking my over sensitive bundle of nerves. My back and neck arched as a guttural cry left me, my hands reaching for him, my fingers tangling themselves in his unruly hair. My hips moves on their own accord, my body needing release anyway it could get it. His hands wrapped around my thighs, holding them down and open as he feasted, low growls coming from his throat.

“Mags, babe, I need your cock,” I rasped, feeling my climax build.

“Call me ‘babe’ again, Firefly,” he begged on a groan, licking my clit lightly.

I let out a sound of frustration. “Give me your cock.”

“Call me ‘babe.’”

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