Page 56 of Dump Tackle My Heart
He fills me, grounds me, burns me up from the inside out all at once.
And for a heartbeat, everything else—the storm, the cabin, the pillow wall, the rules—falls away.
It’s just us.
“Ride me, Sweetheart. That’s it,” he instructs, guiding my movements.
It’s like my brain isn’t working because I feel so—so full. So tight. So hot and needy.
Being with Hudson is like being with no one else—I mean, I’ve had sex, but not like this. Never like this.
He just takes up all the available space inside of me.
I wonder if he got his nickname because of all this—his size, the relentless way he fucks me, rolling over me.
Just like a tank.
He sits up with a low, guttural groan.
The sound—deep and raw—vibrates through my chest like a thunderclap, echoing inside me until I’m trembling with anticipation.
His arms wrap around me, strong and sure, and then he’s moving—thrusting up into me from below—and oh my God.
It’s like he’s touching me everywhere.
My head tips back, a helpless cry escaping my throat as his thick length fills me completely.
“That’s right, Sweetheart,” he rasps, voice hoarse with need. “It’s me. Only me, filling you up.”
Before I can catch my breath, he flips us over in one fluid motion, taking control, taking me.
He grabs my legs, draping them over his broad shoulders, and slides even deeper inside me.
At this angle—God help me—he hits something devastating.
That rough, needy little patch inside me that sends lightning bolts dancing down my spine.
“Hudson!” I cry out, writhing beneath him.
“Yeah, Love. Say it. Scream it. Let this whole mountain hear you. Let them know it’s me making you feel this good.”
His voice darkens then, getting all growly and deep.
“Because I’m the only man who everwill. The only man who can.”
His words?
They’re dirty.
They’re possessive.
They’re completely unhinged.
And I am so here for it.
He shifts again, cock jerking inside me with a maddening drag that makes my toes curl.
“Feel that?”
