Page 70 of I Saw Her First

“It’s amazing. It’s everything. It’s…” He sits back to watch himself fuck me, gripping my waist tightly as his gaze comes to mine, dark and dangerous. It’s like an animal has awoken inside him, and he growls out, “You’re mine now.Mine.”

My heart squeezes tight at his words, at the possessive way he’s holding me. “Yes,” I breathe. “That’s all I could ever want.”

“I need to hear you say it.” Weston’s jaw is hard as he watches me take his cock, watches me writhe with pleasure. “Say the words.”

“I’m yours, Wes. All yours.”

His nostrils flare, the beast inside him satisfied by my response. “Good girl.”

I whimper, lifting my hips to meet his. He lowers a hand between us, finding my clit as he thrusts again. The sensation of that, coupled with the spot he hits deep inside me, makes my words come out in an incoherent slur. “Yes… right… yes… there…”

“Fuck, Daisy.” He grits his teeth, sweat gathering along his brow as he pumps into me, eyes wild. “You feel too good. I can’t…”

“I’m close,” I rasp, feeling the pressure build in my core.

“Thank God.” He kisses along my jaw, the shell of my ear. “Will you come for me?”

“I’m… so…” The words die on my tongue as the pleasure reaches a boiling point.

“Come, babygirl. I need to feel you come on my cock.”

Oh, holy Christ.

Colors explode through my vision, my body spasming as bliss washes through me. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced, no orgasm I’ve had before. Feeling him so deep inside me, filling me as I clench and grip his cock, my moans echoing off the bedroom walls.

“Fuck, Daisy.” He joins me then, his guttural groan shuddering down my spine as he buries himself deep, his body stilling, filling me with his liquid warmth. He’s panting in my ear like he’s just run a marathon, twitching on top of me with aftershocks. I hold him close, grazing his shoulder with my mouth, across the silver under his jaw, in awe of what we just did, how amazing it felt.

I never knew anything could feel that good. Not just the sex, but being so close to him. Feeling him inside me. Seeing him come undone like that.

When he finally rolls off beside me, I feel hollow at the loss of him. He disappears for a moment but I’m too wrung-out to protest, and when he returns, he’s holding a washcloth. Then he does something completely unexpected. He sits between my legs, and gently, carefully, wipes me clean.

A sharp intake of breath has me sitting up on my elbows. “What?”

“There’s a little blood,” he observes, his brows drawn together.

“I think that’s normal.” I’m definitely tender down there, and probably will be the next time we do it, too.

Which will hopefully be soon.

“I hate that I did that to you.” He sets the washcloth aside, crawling up my body to pull me into his arms and stroke my hair.

I chuckle. “I love what you did to me.”

He draws back to examine my face. “You’re not too sore?”

I lift a shoulder. “A little, but it was worth it.”

“Yeah?” There’s that flicker of vulnerability again. I love that about him.

“I’m already counting the minutes until we can do it again.”

A warm laugh rumbles from his chest. “I might be too,” he admits sheepishly. His lips brush softly over mine, and my body tingles in response.

This time, it’s Weston’s stomach rumbling that interrupts the mood. I laugh, pinching him playfully on the arm, and he groans in frustration.

“I’ve had no appetite for weeks being away from you, butnowmy body needs to eat.” He lifts his gaze to the ceiling, and I laugh again.

“So, let’s eat. I’m not going anywhere.” I realize how presumptuous that sounds. “I mean, unless you want me—”

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