Page 20 of Hooked On Victor
She guided him between her legs, the angle messy, rushed, perfect.
He lifted her.
Just picked her up like she weighed nothing.
She felt the strain in his arms, the tremor in his still-healing thigh, but he didn’t stop. He carried her to the island and sat her down hard enough to make the dishes rattle in the cabinets.
He was breathing like he’d run miles.
She wasn’t any better.
When he pressed in, she felt every inch.
Slow.
Relentless.
Her head fell back, mouth open in a sound she didn’t recognize as her own.
The rain slammed the roof.
The wind howled.
Inside, there was only heat.
He set a brutal rhythm, hips snapping, fingers digging into her ass to drag her closer with each thrust. The counter rocked under them, old wood protesting with sharp creaks.
She wrapped her legs around his waist so tight her knees dug into his ribs.
He kissed her the entire time—sloppy, wet, claiming every moan and curse.
“Say it,” he gasped.
“Victor—”
“Say you want this.”
She choked on her own breath, tears burning her eyes from the force of it all.
“I want it,” she snarled back. “I want you.”
That undid him.
He buried his face in her neck and came with a sound that was almost a sob.
She clenched around him, shuddering through her own release, nails leaving red trails down his back.
When the last aftershocks shivered out of them, he didn’t move.
He stayed pressed against her, cock still buried deep, arms locked so tight around her she could barely breathe.
His breath was hot on her neck, uneven, like he was fighting tears.
Rose didn’t say anything.
She just held him back.
Outside, the storm screamed against the glass.
