Page 102 of Infinite as They Come
“Holly Westbrook sounds so fucking good, huh?” he drawled.
The name made me cling to him harder, his lips slamming to mine as he pumped in and out of me wildly. Thick, long,so much. I could feel all of him, feel how wet I was as he sunk into me so deep. It did sound good.Holly Westbrook, Holly Westbrook, Holly Westbrook. My brain wouldn’t let me forget it. Neither would my heart.
He suddenly grabbed my hand—my left one, again—and placed it on the floor, right by my head. His thrusts slowed down, like he was trying to savor the moment. I could feel his thumb rubbing against that spot on my finger. The spot he had touched so many times over the years, always with a gentle caress, and now it was covered with his ring, with a sign from him that I was all his forever.
With my free hand, I let my shaky fingers cling on to him for dear life, our limbs all tangled up together in a fiery mess. That sweet spot buried inside of me was easy enough for him to reach, and it had my toes curling as he found it again and again. I was so close, and for the first time, it was going to happen with Sawyer’s ring on my finger. I almost wanted to skip to the next time we made love. I wanted to be in that moment where I was officially Holly Westbrook, under him, filled with him—my husband.Husband, God. That word. I couldn’t hold on much longer. All of it was too much. Him pumping into me just right, the home, the too vivid visions in my head. I was feeling it all at once, and then I was hit with wave after wave of uncontrollable pleasure.
“Sawyer, Sawyer, Sawyer,” I chanted, fingers stuck in his hair as all that heat rolled right through my body. I could feel myself clenching around him as I lost control, my cries loud and sharp. “Mm, Sawyer, please, feels so good.”
“That’s it, honey,” he drawled, voice gruff. “Give me what I need. Cum on my cock. Cum for me with my ring on your finger. Just like that. Good fucking girl. So fucking tight. So fucking perfect.”
He gave me one more thrust. Just one. Deep, long, hard, pushing in every last inch of his throbbing length, and then he was groaning, the sound long and rough and filthy. His eyes were closed tight as he kept himself there inside of me, letting me feel all of him. Every drop. Thick and wet and so much of it like always, coating me, connecting us.
“Oh, baby, take it,” he said, groaning deeply. “Just take it for me. Take it, take it, take it. Take all of me.”
I clung to him tighter, face buried in his neck as I felt him twitching and throbbing inside of me. My lips ghosted along his neck, my fingers knotted in his hair as he grinded into me, giving me all of him, and I was pretty sure I had never felt so full in my life.
“Christ, Holly…” Teeth gritted, his eyes slowly opened, darkened green eyes locking to mine. “I love you so much, baby. So fucking much. My sweet girl. My perfect fucking girl.”
“I love you, Sawyer,” I said, breath hitching as he squeezed at my hand.
“I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll love you forever. I will. I promise I will. Gonna take such good care of you, sweet girl. I will. Forever, baby. You know I’ve got you forever. Fucking longer than that. Forever and after that, Holly. I’ve got you always.”
I believed him. I could hear it in his voice: that raw honesty, that pure unfiltered love I could only ever get from him and him alone. He peppered kisses all over me. Cheeks, neck, forehead, before pausing on my lips. That was where we stayed locked, his tongue sliding into my mouth, my legs tightening around him as if I could pull him in any deeper even though I had all of him pushed inside me.
My heart was pounding as we kissed, my mind hitting me with image after image that just made me latch on to him desperately. That ring on my finger. Us in this house—our house. That tree, small now, but in a few years, it would be so tall and strong.
Our life, our future, us together forever. He was right. Holly Westbrook really did sound good.
Epilogue
Holly
One Year Later
You couldn’t pay me to stop smiling.
Leaning on the doorframe of the dining room—our dining room, mine and Sawyer’s, and I wouldn’t ever get over that—I took in every last detail of the scene before me, wanting nothing but to remember it forever.
The room was somewhat chaotic, but it helped make it all feel special. Streamers here and there, the dining table topped off with food galore, people wedged in every which way. The birthday cake sitting towards one of the edges of the table while thebirthday boysat in front of it was what made it truly perfect, though. That and the party hat on top of his head that was doing its best to hide all of that dark messy hair that I loved so much, some of the strands poking out at the sides.
We were in the middle of one of the most awkward events a person could experience—when you were on the receiving end of it, at least. My husband was having Happy Birthday sung to him for the first time ever, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck during the whole process, everyone’s voices mixing in together. His mom’s. Kurt’s. Spencer’s. Brodie’s. Annie’s. My parents’. Mine. It was so nice to sing it to him—and a tiny bit funny to watch his cheeks go a little red when it all came to an end and his mom grasped his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss to the cheek.
“You gotta make a wish,” Brodie called out nextto me.
Sawyer’s brows raised. “I don’t know what to wish for.”
“Whatever you want,” his mom said, hand squeezing at his shoulder. “And whatever it is, I hope it comes true.”
Sawyer’s eyes met mine, our gazes locking. It was like the full room was suddenly empty and it was just us two. I wondered what he was thinking, what he was wishing for. Just like his mom said: whatever it was, I really did hope he got it. His green eyes stayed on mine as he blew the candles out before the sound of cheers and clapping met my ears. His mom got to work on cutting the first slice, leaning down to chatter away with Sawyer.
“Man, that cake looks good,” Brodie said, giving his stomach a pat. “Chocolate, right?”
“What else?” I said.
“Yum. I’ll grab some in a minute. You know, I really love this,” Brodie said, voice suddenly a little wistful. “His mom and Kurt and everyone. This whole thing. He really deserves this.”
I smiled at that. I loved it too. “It wouldn’t have been complete without you here. Thanks so much for coming.”
