Page 97 of Sins of the Hidden

She stretched around me like she was born to hold only this. My name, my shape, my sin. I buried myself in her like a vow and broke on the way in. She gripped me like she'd been waiting for it in her sleep—tight, desperate, perfect. Like her body believed in me more than she did.

Every inch of her felt mapped for me. Like I'd lived there in another life. Her body's subtle movements were exactly as I imagined when she'd confessed her desires, the initial tension melting into a greedy, pulsing welcome that pulled me deeper.

My chest pulled tight. My jaw locked. Nothing else existed but the feel of her taking me in. Inch by agonizing inch, she yielded to my advance, stretching to accommodate my size until I was seated fully within her perfect heat, surrounded by silken walls that clenched and pulsed around me, drawing me deeper. I hoped this was exactly what she meant when she'd whispered her fantasy.

Lips found the shell of her ear. "No one else will ever know you like this," a rough growl against her skin. "Even in your dreams, you know." My teeth found her earlobe, feeling her shiver beneath me. "You always welcome me, don't you? Just like you asked for. Like when you told me you wanted to wake up with me inside you." I watched for any shiver, memorizing every reaction. Others might call this wrong, but they didn't understand the deeper truth between us. "So perfect. My wife."

The sensation of her exquisite warmth enveloping me made my vision blur at the edges, white-hot pleasure racing up my spine.

I established a measured rhythm, each deep thrust connecting us more thoroughly than the last, her body responding with signs that matched the fantasy she'd described—the subtle arch of her back, the quickening of her pulse beneath my fingers. Every reaction aligned perfectly with how she'd told me she would respond, her body's language speaking what her sleeping mind couldn't yet articulate. She gripped around me—heat, resistance, welcomed all at once. Her soft form yielded against mine like she was made for this—for me. Each movement sent waves through her, trembling as I claimed her completely.

"Feel how perfectly we fit," I murmured against her neck, my voice thick with devotion, breath hot against her flushed skin. "The way you asked for this that night, practically begging me to fuck you while you sleep." I rolled my hips with deliberate precision, watching how her inner muscles fluttered and clenched around me. "You're so good for me even asleep, Oakley. Always so fucking good." Not a single doubt crossed my mind—her body's reaction was all the confirmation I needed. "Made for this. Made for us. For no one else. The ring meant nothing. The way you breathe under me—that's the vow you chose when you told me your fantasy." Only I could see her true desires. Only I would deliver them without hesitation or guilt.

The soft, wet sounds of our connection filled the room, mixing with my ragged breathing and her unconscious moans. The intoxicating scent of her arousal filled my nostrils, driving my need higher.

Her clit throbbed beneath my touch, slippery and swollen—so responsive it twitched with every pass like it knew what wascoming. Her clit pulsed against my fingers, her walls beginning to flutter—so close, so fucking close.

Her inner walls began to contract around my cock, signaling her impending release.

I angled deeper, grinding into the place that made her pulse twitch and breath stutter, quickening my pace as her breathing became more erratic.

"That's it," I growled against her ear, "give it to me. Let go for me."

I rocked into her slow and deep, hips grinding until she gave that little unconscious gasp I'd memorized—when the head of my cock hit the spot that made her melt. Every push stretched her around me again—tighter, wetter, sweeter with each retreat and return.

If she said no now, I'd stop. I'd hate myself, and I'd stop. But she won't. She's too good. Too fucking honest in her sleep to lie to me now.

The slap of skin against skin grew louder as I increased my pace, driving into her with controlled force.

I covered her mouth with mine, swallowing her gasps as her body began to convulse, my tongue mimicking the rhythm of my cock as it thrust into her welcoming heat.

She gasped when I pressed deeper—she rolled toward me, her instinct chasing the sensation. Her lips parted around my name, a dream-sound I hadn't earned. That's how I knew it was real.

I fucked her like worship, slow and deep, giving her every inch she asked for when she thought I wasn't listening.

Her release came in violent waves, inner muscles milking me like her body couldn't bear to let me go with vise-like intensity as pleasure claimed her.

Her brows twitched, lips parting around a faint gasp, hips stuttering against mine—some part of her stirred—just enoughto shatter me, hovering in that perfect space between sleep and conscious sensation. Her body responded exactly as I'd imagined when she'd stammered her confession. The way she'd described it was unfolding before me—her unconscious pleasure leading to the gradual awakening she'd fantasized about. The gift she'd entrusted to me that night was being delivered exactly as promised.

Her core spasmed around me—quaking, tightening, begging me not to leave.

I watched in fascination as her features tightened beautifully, brows knitting sharply, lips trembling apart in a silent cry of ecstasy.

The exquisite pressure triggered my release, flooding her with the kind of promise no ring could match. I came hard, deep, spilling into her like it meant something more than vows ever could. My vision fractured at the edges, every nerve screaming her name.

"You'll feel me with every step. Every breath. All day," I growled against her neck, my voice breaking with raw emotion. "Just like I promised when you told me your fantasy. When I said I'd collect without warning."

My release spilled into her in thick, endless pulses, each one claimed by her greedy body. I could feel her swallow it—tight, twitching, as if she knew exactly what she was meant for.

Slowly, reluctantly, I withdrew from her warmth, already mourning the loss of contact. I watched it leak out of her, slow and slick—proof of ownership she'd carry until the next time I filled her. Even if she forgot this moment, her body would remember. Her walk, her ache, her pulse would whisper my name all day.

Every muscle in my body seized, pleasure exploding through me, fracturing my vision into shards of white-hot bliss, making me momentarily lose awareness of everything but the moltenheat binding us together, the perfect union of flesh that bound us together.

I watched her core clench greedily around me, refusing to let go. I didn't move—didn't dare—not until every drop had spilled deep where it belonged.

"You're entirely my own," I murmured against her damp skin. "Inside and out."

We lay tangled together, her breathing gradually softening back into sleep while aftershocks rippled through her body, tiny contractions that squeezed the last drops of pleasure from both of us.

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