Page 116 of Off Limits

A smirk plays across his lips as he hooks his fingers and my spine peels off the bed, a scream tearing from my throat. “You have me.”

“I need you to fuck me.” It’s these vulnerable moments that Lochlyn has been able to get me to come out of my shell, to talk, to say what my deepest desires are.

He doesn’t hesitate, removing his fingers and replacing them with his hard length as he slowly eases into me.

The tiniest squeak leaves my parted lips once he’s all the way inside me. He stays still for a moment, pressing his forehead against mine, then he starts thrusting, slowly at first, but quickly picking up momentum.

Chelsea used to tell me that she’d break up with boys when the sex got old. I never understood what that meant, but she’d always tell me I would one day, when I finally had consistent sex, I’d get it. But Lochlyn and I have been together for almost a year now, having sex for almost ten of those months, and it’s definitely not getting old. I can’t even imagine that happening.

It’s not just the physical connection we have, that every single time feels absolutely incredible. It’s the passion. The way I can sense how much he loves me. It’s how much I love him. I think that’s what’s always been missing for Chelsea.

Slowing, he draws my attention. “What’s in your head? You seem distracted. Do you want to stop?” How is he not winded?

“No, I’m sorry. I was just thinking about how much I love you.” I place a hand on his cheek and run my thumb over his temple, pulling him down for a kiss.

His tongue seeking mine, he intensifies the kiss and starts rocking against me in slow, even strokes. Trailing a stream of tiny kisses to my ear, his warm breath coming in bursts that shift my hair, he whispers, “I love you, Shay.”

Pushing up, he starts thrusting harder and faster. I run my hands up his toned chest, wrapping one to his shoulder and the other to the nape of his neck, my fingers twisting into his hair.

I’m back to whimpering with every thrust, my nails digging into his back.

“Mmm, don’t stop.” After our conversation when we got back together, I’ve been trying to be more vocal.

“Feel good, baby girl?”

“Yes.”So damn good.

A few more thrusts and my head tips back, chest meeting his as I tighten around him, crying out, tugging at his hair as my nails scrape down his back.

He groans in response, sucking in sharply, giving two more quick pumps into me before he stops, resting his forehead against mine. It’s still my favorite thing in the world. I haven’t told him, but I’m almost certain he knows.

Rolling to his back, he slides his arm under my neck and draws me into him, tracing his fingers lightly along my arm.

Placing a gentle kiss on my forehead, he leaves his lips there. “I’m so Goddamn in love with you, Shay. I just need you to know that.”

Rolling to my stomach to face him, I rest my chin on his chest. “I do. And I’m extremely in love with you, Lochlyn.” Extremely doesn’t even seem to cover it. It’s all-encompassing. If I were to only know one thing, it would be my love for Lochlyn. And if I were to only feel one thing, it would be his love for me.

Two hours later, Lochlyn pulls into a grassy parking lot. We’re surrounded by rows and rows of trees. It’s the perfect fall day with gray skies, a crispness biting in the air, and the smell of campfires and baked goods floating on the breeze.

When Lochlyn walks around the car and wraps an arm around my shoulders, I curl into his side. I’m going to need to stay extra close to him as he’s looking more attractive than usual today, though I was certain that was impossible. He bought some new fall shirts and the way the one he’s wearing fits him is nothing short of perfection as it’s taut against his toned chest. Even the Greek Gods would be jealous of his physique and the way he looks in that shirt.

I’d like to think it was just the double dose of sex we had this morning, but I know that’s not it. Lochlyn’s just that good-looking. I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze, feeling lucky to have him.

With his hand slipping to my rib cage, he starts walking. “I see a small booth over there. I’d assume that’s where we go.”

“It’s pretty here.”

“Yeah, it’s a perfect day. With my perfect girl.”

I squeeze myself into him even more as a giant smile spreads across my face. Suddenly, he stops, resting his hands on my shoulders and pushing me back.

“Yup, I knew it. You’re smiling. And we haven’t even picked any apples yet.”

“I’msmilingbecause you’re just so sweet to me. It makes me happy.”

“I’m glad, baby girl. Because I’ll always be sweet to you.”

When we get to the booth, we get options for a half bushel or a peck-sized bag. We look at each other in confusion and decide to go for the half bushel, the bigger one.

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