Page 158 of Protecting What's Mine
They fell asleep as evening fell outside the curtained windows. Emotionally spent, they wrapped themselves around each other, a tangle of limbs and towels and comfort. He woke to dusk, to the smell of chamomile drifting up from her still-damp hair. To the honeyed heat of her body pressed against his.
His dick, achingly hard, was nestled against the soft curves of her ass. It throbbed with the primal need to claim her, protect her, love her.
She stirred against him, a sleepy sigh escaping her unpainted lips.
He loved her like this. Loved her every way she came.
“We’re going to have to talk about what comes next, Dreamy,” he whispered, lips brushing her ear. “Because I’m never letting you go.”
When she didn’t answer, he kissed the nape of her neck, then worked his way down her spine. He paused to pay special attention to every bruise, every scrape. And every time he brushed his lips over a wound, he promised them both:never again.
She gave a thready gasp when he got to her hips and sank his teeth into one graceful curve.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Mackenzie. You’re so fucking mine.”
“I love you, Linc. So much,” she whispered against the pillow.
He’d never get tired of hearing those words from that mouth.
“Dreamy, there’s no other choice. You’re it for me.”
“Thank you for still wanting me.”
It pulverized his heart for the little girl whose own mother hadn’t wanted her, whose sister hated her. But she was here with him now, and he’d spend the rest of his life erasing any doubt those monsters had given her.
He needed a ring. A plan.
She rolled over on her stomach, the smooth hills of her ass greeting him. His cock twitched with the need to conquer.
Testing her, he leaned in and brushed his lips over the curves of one spectacular cheek. Then sank his teeth into it.
She let out a breathy little gasp that had his dick going even harder.
“I love every fucking inch of you, Mackenzie,” he whispered, moving his lips over her flesh, reveling in the goosebumps that cropped up on her skin. He bit again, lower this time, where the thigh met cheek.
She shivered. “I love how you touch me.”
“How do I touch you?”
“Like you love me.”
On that soft confession, Linc parted her ass cheeks. His tongue darted out to stroke forbidden fruit. Her head came up off the pillow on a gasp, but the rest of her body remained statue still.
“Is this okay?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she breathed. “God, yes. Everything you do to me is magic.”
He wanted her, every damn inch of her.
His cock throbbed an incessant SOS even as he took his time, tongue playing, mouth moving. She writhed under him. Begging for more.
With his heart in his throat, blood pounding through his veins, Linc slid his way back up her body, covering her back with his chest. His hard-on found its home at the apex of her thighs. He could feel the wet, the heat, the need.
When she rocked her ass against him, his vision began to tunnel.
“Hang on tight, Dreamy,” he said, closing her fingers around the spindles of the headboard.
He lined himself up with her opening and, in one swift thrust, buried himself inside her.
