Page 66 of Dump Tackle My Heart
“Thank fuck.”
I push inside, slow at first—just the tip—and sweet hell, she’s hot.Soaked.
Tight and pulsing like her body’s calling to mine.
Her breath catches. Her back arches.
“More, Hudson,” she pants. “Gimme more.”
And, fuck me, I do.
I grip her hips, possessive, reverent, and I give her every inch.
Harder. Deeper.
I push every inch of me all the way until my balls are snug against her sweet arse.
Until she’s trembling around me, her moans echoing off the walls, her body quaking with every stroke.
Dani’s panting, gripping the table, knuckles white, head thrown back as her body tries to keep me inside her.
Like she doesn’t want to let go.
“Mine,” I growl, the word ripping from my chest.
Her name is a prayer on my lips.
Her pleasure?My mission.
Her everything?My purpose.
Her perfect pussy squeezes my cock, and our gazes crash into one another, just like our orgasms.
Simultaneous. Cataclysmic.
Earth shaking.
Fuck—it’s like the earth tilts off its axis.
She cries out my name, body convulsing, back arching, as I go with her.
It’s so hot. So perfect.
Just like her.
Just like us.
Oh, this one was different.
It was better. More. Meaningful.
And I know I want it every single fucking day for the rest of my life.
It’s not just release. It’s not just sex.
It’s home.
It’s us.
