Page 162 of Silver Fox Puck

We stumble toward the bed, mouths locked, breathing each other in like oxygen. When I lay her down, she’s already pulling at the rest of her clothes, panties sliding down those perfect legs. I shove my jeans the rest of the way off and crawl up her body, pausing only to press my mouth to her throat, her collarbone, her tits—God, those tits—sucking her nipple deep into my mouth until she cries out.

She’s soaked. I can feel it against my stomach, the slick heat of her ready for me. Needing me.

I line up, tip brushing her entrance, and meet her eyes.

“You sure?”

Her smile is wild. “Grant. Shut up and fuck me.”

So I do.

I thrust deep in one stroke, and her back bows off the bed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream. I feel it all—the tight heat of her around me, the way she clenches, the tears pricking her eyes because it’s not just sex. It’severything.

“Jesus,” I growl, bracing on one forearm while the other grips her thigh, pulling her open for me. “You feel unreal. Like fucking heaven.”

I move. Hard. Deep. My name falls from her lips over and over, her nails digging into my shoulders, her legs locked tight around my waist like she’s never letting go. Her tits bounce with every thrust, her hair a mess across my pillow, and all I can think is—this is mine. She’s mine.

I slide a hand down between us, find her clit, start circling. Her hips jerk, her moans sharper now, louder. “That’s it,” my voice a low pant. “Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock.”

Her whole body locks up—and then she shatters. Screaming. Writhing. Coming so hard I feel her clamp around me, pulsing, milking me like her body’s begging me to stay forever.

I lose it.

I drive in once, twice more—then I’m spilling inside her with a guttural groan, burying my face in her neck, heart pounding like a war drum.

We collapse in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat and breathless, dazed laughter.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t feel like I’m holding back. I don’t feel like I’m hiding.

She’s mine. The world knows it.

And I’m never letting her go.

Chapter 37 – Kenzie

Iwake up slowly, warmth cocooning me from all sides.

It takes me a second to remember where I am. Who I’m with.

The steady rise and fall of Grant’s chest beneath my cheek. The heavy weight of his arm draped around my waist.

The soft, slow way his fingers trace absent patterns against my bare back—even in sleep.

My chest tightens. Because for the first time in… maybe ever—I feel completely safe.

Not just physically.

But in a way that feels terrifyingly permanent.

I shift slightly, just enough to tilt my head, watching him. Even asleep, he looks intense.

Sharp jaw. Furrowed brow. Silver-streaked hair mussed against the pillow.

I bite my lip, tempted to reach out and smooth the tension between his brows.

But instead?

I carefully slip out of bed.

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