“Fuck, you feel good,” he grits out as he caresses my skin, his touch lighting me on fire as I ride him.
It’s intoxicating.
Not just the way he feels inside me but the way he’s letting me take charge, the way he’s willing to learn, to let me show him what I like.
It’s everything.
I feel alive and adored andseen—his attentiveness making it clear he’s paying attention to the things I’m saying and the things I’m not.
He gets me on a level I’ve never experienced, our connection so much more than just a happy distraction while we’ve suspended reality.
“Harder, baby,” he rasps against my throat. “Fuck, I can feel you. You’re so close.”
It’s the reverence in his words that pushes me over the edge, the freefall into pleasure nothing compared to the moment my orgasm detonates.
Wild.
Violent.
And utterly breathtaking.
Another thread woven between his soul and mine as he growls my name, his hold on me tight and unyielding.
Perfection.
Because he is.
And more than that, he’s perfect for me.
30
BODHI
MONTANA: Bodhi type 1 if you’re all right or 2 if you need assistance
JENSEN: Why would he need assistance?
MONTANA: He’s been gone for DAYS
JENSEN: It’s not like he texts us every day
MONTANA: Because we see him almost every day
ARCHER: He’s a grown man he doesn’t have to check in
MONTANA: The fuck he doesn’t
ARCHER: You’re a lot of work
MONTANA: I’ll never deny that
“Wow, what is goin’ on over there?” Ella asks as I stare down at my phone.
“Montana is having a meltdown because I haven’tchecked in.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”