Page 32 of Dump Tackle My Heart

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Deep. Hungry. Claiming.

My dick twitches.

Her pussy squeezes in response.

And I start to move again, grinding my hips into hers, keeping my thrusts shallow but relentless.

“How?”

Her green eyes glitter with wonder, and it slays me.

She slays me.

“Want you, Dani. Want you all the fucking time,” I confess, licking back into her mouth like she’s my favorite fucking treat.

Newsflash: she is.

My hips swivel and grind. Small, slow pushes that drag every inch of me along her slick walls.

Every motion stokes the fire between us, builds it hotter, wilder, until we’re just heat and breath and skin.

Because if I know anything, it’s this one thing.

This woman was made for me.

I know I fucked up before. I don’t know how, but I did.

I know I owe her an apology, an explanation, a thousand words I haven’t said yet.

But first?

I need to feel her sweet pussy convulse around me one more time.

Need to make her come.

To fill her with my seed.

To mark her in every primal way my body knows how.

Fine. I’m obsessed.

But who wouldn’t be?

Dani is so sweet and perfect. She thinks I don’t know her, but I do.

I’ve watched her at work, cool and professional with everyone on the team.

I’ve seen the way Finley adores her and can’t function without her.

I know the sound of her laugh when it’s real or forced.

I’ve memorized the way her nose crinkles when she’s frustrated, and the little crease between her brows when she’s thinking hard.

And the way I feel now? She’s a perfect fit in my life.

I need her.

I want her.

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