Page 73 of Chasing Wildflowers
My hands find her hips, gripping them as I slowly push into her warm heat, feeding her a few inches before stopping. “That’s right. Mine. You’re mine. Are you ever going to deny me either again?”
She moans, her whole body vibrating with need. “No, never again. Please, Jameson, I need you.”
“So fucking polite.” My grip on her hips tightens. “So fucking needy.” I bottom out with a sharp thrust that has her crying out.
She feels so fucking incredible.
Tight and warm.
I lean over her body, my lips brushing her ear. “You better be quiet,” I warn, nipping at her ear. “Orthey’ll hear you.” I pull out almost all the way, then slam back in, hard. “Do you think you can be quiet for me?”
She nods, burying her face in the pillow, muffling her needy moans.
“Good fucking girl.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I watch her pussy stretch around me, swallowing me with each thrust of my hips.
A groan rips from my throat before I can stop it. “You’re pussy looks so fucking good taking my cock, Wildflower.”
She clenches around me, hips jerking. “Please.”
“Please what, Wildflower?”
Green lust filled eyes meet mine over her shoulder. “Please make me come.”
“So fucking polite.” My hips slam into her, my thrust faster, rougher, deeper.
Fuck, I’d give anything to stay buried in Lane’s warmth all night, losing myself in her completely. But we aren’t alone in the house, and Lane’s moans are becoming louder, needier.
“I want you to come for me,” I rasp, as my fingers find her clit; pressing fast, tight circles around the tiny bud. My hips slam into her. Skin meets skin with each thrust, the wet, sloppy smacks echoing in the room as she cries out into the pillow beneath me.
Her pussy clamps down, strangling my cock as she comes apart, her strangled moans getting lost in the pillow.
“Fuck,” I growl out, my whole body going rigid, as I empty myself into her.
I collapse over her, rolling us onto our sides, and wrap my arms around her, pull her close; bodies slick with sweat, our breathing ragged and uneven.
I bury my face in her hair, inhaling the soft, familiar scent that’s become home. My arms tighten around her, needing her closer. “I love you, Wildflower.”
I have for months.
She turns to face me and places a gentle palm on my cheek, her eyes burning into mine. “I love you too, Jameson.”
Her words seep through my veins, breathing life into my soul. A shaky breath leaves my chest as I press my lips to her forehead.
“I’m never fucking letting you go again,” I whisper against her skin. It’s not a promise—it’s a vow. Because losing her isn’t an option. Not now. Not ever.
Thirty-one
Lane
I wake up cocooned in Jameson’s strong, tattooed arms, the late morning sun shining through the sheer curtains. His smell envelops me, making it easy to breathe for the first time in days. Being in his arms feels like home.
After going to bed, I stared at the ceiling until the early hours of the morning, sleep refusing to come. My conversations with Jameson, with his mom, with Kam; all playing on a loop in my head.
My body and my heart missed him, craved him, every cell humming with awareness that he was just across the hall. It was my head that couldn’t let go, fear holding me captive.
“Just go to him,” Kam grumbles, pulling the blanket over her head and rolling on her side. “I can’tsleep with how loudly you are mentally fighting with yourself over this.”
