Page 107 of Fixing to Be Mine

Her eyes are wild in the mirror, her lips swollen from biting them, her tits bouncing with every thrust. I can feel the way her pussy grips me, tight and wet, and it drives me fucking insane. I pound into her harder, my balls slapping against her ass, the sound ricochets off the walls of this quiet room. She’s moaning nonstop now, little whimpers and cries that only make me fuck her harder.

“You’re mine, Stormy,” I growl, my voice rough with possession. “I don’t give a fuck if you leave here. Every fucking inch of you belongs to me, no matter how far away you are.”

Her hand reaches back, clawing at my thigh, and I know she’s close again. I can feel her pussy clenching around me. I lean over her, my chest pressing against her back, and I bite down on her shoulder as I fuck her even harder. Her body shaking as she explodes again, and I can’t hold back anymore.

I bury myself deep inside her, my cock pulsing as I fill her up.

We stay like that for a moment, both of us panting, our bodies slick with sweat.

I pull out slowly, watching my cum drip out of her perfect little pussy, and I can’t help but smirk.

She collapses against the bed and I know she’s mine in every way that matters.

I crawl up beside her and wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, letting her come down in my arms. She breathes against my chest, fully relaxed. There’s a new peace in her now, one I haven’t seen before. And I think maybe, just maybe, she’s starting to believe the things I say to her.

“You don’t have to be anything else,” I say, holding her. “Not for me. You’re already more than enough.”

She’s still curled into my chest when I realize the light has changed again. Faded blue slips in around the edges of the windows, turning everything still. Stormy’s fingers are tracing circles on my stomach. She hasn’t said anything since I pulled her into my arms, and I haven’t needed her to, but I feel something change in her breath. It’s a new kind of tension, and I patiently wait.

She lifts her head so she can look at me. Her eyes are steady now, like whatever she’s about to say is already decided.

“I have to go back to New York,” she says.

There’s no drama in her voice, no hesitation. Just truth.

I nod once. “I know.”

She watches me carefully.

“I’m not running away from you,” she says, like she needs me to understand. “There are things … people I have to face. Loose ends I need to tie up. Family I need to look in the eye.”

I don’t look away from her.

She exhales like she’s been holding that breath for days. Her forehead drops to my shoulder, and I feel the tension bleed out of her.

We lie like that for a while, breathing in sync. The fan hums gently above us.

She moves in my arms, her cheek brushing against my chest like she’s working up the nerve to speak again.

“I want you to come with me,” she says.

I blink because that’s not what I expected her to say.

For a second, I think maybe I misheard her, but then she lifts her head and looks at me. There’s nothing casual about the way she said it.

“You want me to …” I trail off, trying to catch up. “To New York?”

She nods once. “I know it’s a lot, but I don’t want to go without you.”

I sit up a little, leaning on my elbow so I can see her better.

It hits me all at once. She’s asking for me to join her, not just here in this bed or this house, but wherever she’s going next. It feels big. It is big.

“Stormy,” I say, brushing her hair behind her ear, “you could ask me to follow you to the edge of hell, and I’d pack my bag before you finished the sentence.”

She exhales, and her whole body relaxes against me.

“I don’t know what I’m walking into,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “But I know what I’m walking away from.”

---