He came in my mouth and I swallowed every drop of it. I licked my lips, holding his gaze as my skin burned under the heat of his stare. There were so many emotions lingering there and reflecting my own. That raw wave of devotion and love momentarily stilled me.
He released my strands and brought his hands to cup my cheeks, running his calloused thumb gently against my bottom lip.
“I love you, Madeline,” he rasped, his dark eyes the shade of the deepest ocean.
“I love you too,” I breathed.
He pulled his gray sweatpants up and then suddenly lifted me by the backs of my thighs and dropped me on the desk. A soft squeal escaped me when he spread my legs open, the evidence of my arousal staining my panties.
“My turn,” he growled, taking my lips for a rough kiss.
Our tongues slid against one another. I moaned into his mouth while a deep, empty ache pulsed between my thighs. My fingers dug into his hair, turning our kiss deeper, as his hand slid between my legs.
He thrust two fingers inside me, and I groaned into his mouth. I was soaked, something about bringing him pleasure was so damn addictive.
Byron’s lips trailed down my neck—nipping and marking me—and all the while, he slid his fingers in and out of me, spreading my arousal around.
Without warning, he ripped my panties, grasped the backs of my thighs, and hooked them up over his shoulders. He pressed his face between my legs, and my head fell back against the cold surface of his fancy desk.
Pleasure tore through me, my eyelids fluttering shut. I shuddered and writhed as he licked and sucked on my clit. My moans filled the air, my blood simmering like an inferno, and with one last nip of my clit, my orgasm tore through me. Light shot behind my eyes. My fingers dug in his hair as I rode the rest of the waves.
It would seem every time with Byron was better than the last, making me addicted to him. I never wanted to live without this—him—ever again.
He pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“How much time do we have before our son wakes up?”
A small shudder ran through me as he fixed his darkened blue gaze on me. “About an hour.”
“Then let’s make the best of it.”
God, did we ever.
* * *
It was a week since the fiasco with Marco. I was fully recovered and Byron had been there every second of the day, taking care of me. We talked. We kissed. We spent time with Ares. We were a family.
And as a family, we had every meal together. Byron had yet to leave to go to work, or anywhere else for that matter.
“Can I be excused?” Ares asked in a muffled tone, his mouth still full of the eggs he’d shoved into it.
I chuckled, seeing his chipmunk cheeks as he slowly chewed. “You can, but chew up your food first. And next time, smaller bites.”
He nodded, then shot up to his feet the moment he swallowed his food. He left us without a backward glance as Byron and I chuckled behind him.
“Before you know it, he’ll be leaving us without looking back to go to college,” Byron mused.
“Oh God, don’t go there. Not yet.”
We were in the dining room, having breakfast. Just the three of us. People had come around to see us over the last three days—well, to see me. And to ensure I wasn’t dying. I most assuredly wasn’t. Billie almost flew back home, but thankfully, I convinced her it was unnecessary. It turned out my big sister was avoiding Winston.
Life certainly had a weird way of working out. It brought us all here. To this very moment. I had no doubt it would work itself out for my sister too. Whether that be with Winston or not.
“I have something for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please, no more jewelry.”
He chuckled as he reached for a folder and handed it to me. “No, not jewelry.”