Page 73 of Backed By You
“You like that, don’t you?” His voice is a seductive whisper, dark and velvety. A flush spreads across my skin. “Like me taking you like this, filling you up, fucking this drenched cunt of yours.”
“Yes,” I gasp, words barely forming as he strikes that sweet spot inside me. “Don’t stop.”
To my dismay, he does just that, withdrawing completely. Before I can utter a protest, he shifts lower, his breath scorching against my sensitive flesh. “Beau, wha—” My question dissolves into a throaty cry when his tongue finds my core, exploring and teasing with devastating finesse.
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs against me. He spreads me wider. His tongue delves between my swollen lips, moving with deliberate strokes that turn my legs to jelly. He circles my clit, then drags his tongue up through my folds, prodding at my core before moving to my ass.
I bury my face in the sheets at the raw intensity. He grips my thighs, steadying me as they begin to tremble, threatening to buckle under me.
He pulls away again and I whimper.
“Turn over,” he commands with a light slap on my right ass cheek.
I gasp, mock-glaring at him over my shoulder and relishing in the naughty smirk on his lips.
He climbs onto the bed beside me and leans against the headboard. His eyes blaze with desire as I crawl to him on all fours.
“Come here, baby,” he groans, eagerly reaching for me.
I straddle him, positioning myself above his cock. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his thick shaft. His hands guide my hips as I sink down slowly, taking him inch by delicious inch until he’s fully sheathed inside me. I shift my hips, drawinghim in even deeper. With a groan, his head falls against the headboard.
His hold on me tightens as I begin to move. I find my rhythm, rising and falling as his hands explore my body—cupping my breasts, thumbs circling my nipples, then sliding down. The rough pad of his thumb finds my clit, circling it in perfect sync with every drop of my pussy.
The walls of my core start to flutter around his length and I grind against him, pulling my orgasm to the surface in moments. I cry out, my body singing with release.
“That’s it, baby. Fuckin’ beautiful,” he growls, his eyes locked on me as I ride him in sloppy, wet ecstasy.
I throw my head back. “Oh, god, Beau!”
I collapse over him, my walls still fluttering around him when he takes over. He thrusts upward to meet each shaky, downward fall of my core. Another orgasm builds and I brace against the headboard beside his head as he slams into me from below. He grunts with each drag of his cock.
I shatter a second time with his name on my lips, my body wrung tight and clenching around him in waves. His release follows and he comes buried deep inside me. Ropes of hot cum paint me from the inside. I tremble at the feeling.
His arms wrap around me, holding me close as our heartbeats gradually slow to normal. He presses a kiss to my temple and I smile against his skin as his hand makes lazy patterns on my back.
“Welcome home,” I say softly.
His hand stills and I tilt my head to face him. “You asking or telling?”
A small giggle slips out when he grins.
“Move in with me,” I say, lifting up on an elbow to be face to face with him. I take in the stoic features I’ve grown to love so deeply. The strong jaw covered in stubble, the deep, darkeyes that see right through me, the stern mouth that can shift from commanding to tender in an instant—but only with me. “Officially. I mean, you’ve been staying here for the last month, living out of a duffle bag.”
He hums. “True.”
“And I love you,” I tell him with a bat of my lashes and pout of my lips. Using my ‘feminine wiles’ against him, as he would say.
And boy, do they work.
“I love you, too.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Always will.”
We lie tangled together for a few more minutes, savoring the quiet intimacy that feels like such a greater luxury than anything in Hollywood. After the premiere, we went to the afterparty for all of ten minutes—sneaking out the back to the hotel room.
The premiere feels like a distant dream: the cameras, the crowds, the critics. Reviews for the finale ofThe Devil’s Laketrilogy have been overwhelmingly positive. It’s made my little creative heart proud to see it gain so much love. And with shooting for my next project scheduled to begin in six months, Beau and I havea lotof decisions to make.
Reluctantly, Beau glances at his phone on the nightstand. “We should get moving,” he says. “Cassidy asked if we could be there a few hours early for pictures. The wedding is at five, and we should feed Hulk beforehand.”
At the mention of his name, Hulk lifts his head from his spot on the floor beside the bed, tail thumping against the hardwoods. His leg has healed remarkably well, barely a limp remaining. He wasecstaticto see us when we got home—yes, even Beau—although he certainly seemed reluctant to leave his new favorite little human.
