Page 14 of Her Father's Best Friend

I nod, suddenly nervous. I know we’ve had sex before, but it was in the heat of the moment, never with the deliberate intention of sharing a bed for the night.

He leads me to his bedroom, turning on a small lamp beside the bed. The room is simply furnished—a large bed with dark blue sheets, a dresser, a nightstand. No photographs or personal touches except for a stack of paperback books beside the bed.

"I can take the couch," he offers, rubbing the back of his neck. "If you'd be more comfortable."

"Don't be ridiculous," I say, though my heart pounds at the thought of a full night beside him. "We've literally been inside each other. I think we can share a bed."

His lips twitch at my bluntness. "Wasn't sure if you wanted space to sleep."

"Do you?" I challenge, stepping closer to him.

He shakes his head slowly. "Wouldn't be able to sleep with you in the next room anyway. Not without coming to check on you every five minutes."

"Then stay." I begin unbuttoning the borrowed flannel, holding his gaze as I slip it from my shoulders. His sweatpants follow, pooling at my feet, leaving me naked before him.

His breath catches, eyes darkening as they travel over me. "How am I supposed to just sleep beside you?" he asks, voice rough.

I reach for him, my hand finding the hem of his t-shirt. "Who said anything about 'just' sleeping?"

He helps me tug his shirt over his head, revealing the broad expanse of his chest that still makes my mouth go dry. When he strips off his jeans, his arousal is obvious, straining against his boxer briefs.

We come together like magnets, my body melting against his as his mouth finds mine. But this kiss is different from the ones we've shared before—slower, deeper, less desperate but somehow more intense. His hands sweep down my back to cup my ass, lifting me easily. I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to the bed, laying me down with surprising gentleness.

"I don't think I can be gentle tonight," he warns, his voice a low rumble against my throat.

"I don't need gentle," I assure him, arching up as his mouth maps a path down my neck to my breast. "I need you."

He groans, his beard scraping deliciously against my sensitive skin as he takes my nipple into his mouth. I tangle my fingers in his hair, holding him against me as pleasure spirals through my body.

"Been thinking about this all day," he murmurs against my skin. "About you in my bed."

His confession sends heat pooling between my thighs. "Show me," I urge, spreading my legs wider in invitation.

He works his way down my body, his large hands gripping my thighs as he settles between them. The first touch of his tongue against my center makes me cry out, back arching off the bed. He holds me down with one forearm across my hips, the other hand spreading me open for his mouth.

"Mitch," I gasp, clutching at the sheets as he sucks and licks with devastating precision. "Oh god?—"

He hums against me, the vibration sending new waves of pleasure through my core. When he slides two thick fingers inside me, curling them to hit that perfect spot while his tongue works my clit, I shatter. My thighs clamp around his head as I come with a cry that barely sounds human to my own ears.

Before I can recover, he's moving up my body, positioning himself between my legs. "Need to be inside you," he growls, his cock pressing against my entrance. "Need it like I need air."

"Yes," I breathe, lifting my hips to meet him. "Please."

He pushes inside in one long, slow thrust that has us both groaning. He fills me completely, stretching me in a way that borders on pain but tilts decisively toward pleasure. When he starts to move, it's with a deliberate rhythm that builds the tension inside me all over again.

"Look at me," he commands, one hand cupping my face to ensure I obey. "Want to see your eyes when you come around me."

The intensity in his gaze nearly undoes me. There's something new there, something beyond desire, beyond possession—something that looks dangerously like love.

I wrap my legs higher around his waist, changing the angle so he hits that perfect spot with every thrust. "Don't stop," I plead, feeling my second climax building. "Don't ever stop."

"Not stopping," he promises, his pace increasing as his control frays. "Not leaving. Not letting you go."

The possession in his voice, the promise of permanence, sends me hurtling over the edge again. I come with his name on my lips, my inner walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper.

He follows moments later, his hips jerking against mine as he pulses inside me, my name a prayer on his lips. He collapses beside me, gathering me against his chest, his heart thundering under my ear.

For several long minutes, we just breathe together, his hand stroking my back in slow, soothing circles. Outside, the storm continues to rage, but I barely notice the thunder now, too wrapped up in the afterglow and the man holding me.

---