Page 113 of Tapped

He’s lost all the control he’s been hanging onto for the sake of my son.

Two thick fingers spear me. His tongue suffocates my moans when he claims my mouth.

Hell, I can’t lie to myself.

The man has claimed every part of me.

“Micah,” I gasp, pulling away from him as he stretches me with a third finger and this thumb gives my clit a firm circle. I frame his face with my hands as the truth spills from my lips. “You overwhelm me.”

His head dips, and my nipple is sucked between his lips. I thread my fingers through his messy hair and hold tight, taking in every sensation. His teeth sink into my sensitive skin there, almost in a dare. Like his goal in life is to overwhelm me in every way.

This time when I moan, he squeezes my sex, in a warning.

Oh, shit.

For the first time, we’re not alone under one roof.

He lets go of my nipple with a pop. “Someday I’ll have you to myself, when we’re not new, in a house full of people, and you’re not hurt. I can’t wait for that, baby.”

“I don’t even know what that means, but I can’t wait for it too.”

He pushes away from me and stands. His jeans, boxers, and socks that smell like a campfire land on top of my clothes on the floor before he rummages around his bag for a condom.

His cock bobs and teases me, the tip glistening. I remember what it felt like in my hand just this morning while in his bed.

And here I am, ending the same day in his childhood bed with my son sleeping, safe and sound, across the hall.

I don’t remember the last time I felt so at peace. So happy.

Happy.

It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of that word.

He rolls on the condom, and I take him in as he places both hands on either side of me. “Roll to your good side, baby. I don’t want you to have to stitch yourself back up, though, I’m sure you could if you had to.”

I bite back a smile, and put a foot to the bed to roll to my side. He crawls in behind me, his body warm and strong and controlling as he wraps me up. His thigh nudges my top leg, and he nips the skin below my ear. “I want to make your pussy desperate for me. Arch, baby.”

What I want to say is that he won’t have to try. Desperate isn’t a strong enough word to describe my emotions when it comes to him.

I arch.

He positions himself behind me, and demands, “No, baby. You’re going to take all of me. Arch.”

I push my ass back and jut my breasts out.

“Fuck, yes.” His words are a breath in my ear at the same moment he takes my breath away.

He slams into me from behind, and I moan.

He curls his body around mine. His hand slides from my breasts to my sex. Three fingers part my lips there and land on my clit, but he doesn’t move. He stays buried deep inside me.

He’s so big.

I’m so full.

He works my clit at the same time he dips his head and sucks at the skin on my shoulder. “Quiet, Evie. I’m going to make you come so hard, but I don’t want to hear a sound. I fucking love your moans and cries, but they’re for me only, you got it? They’re mine.”

I file that away for later when I have the wherewithal to process it. I can’t think about anything else other than the magic he’s creating between my legs. My lungs pull in a shallow breath and I try my hardest to not complain when he lets up on the delicious pressure.

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