Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
She answers by grabbing my tie and pulling me down to her mouth.
The kiss is hungry and desperate, the kind we don’t get often enough anymore. Life’s busy these days: practices and games and three kids and a house that always needs something. But when we find these moments, when the house is quiet and it’s just us, she burns for me. But that has always been our way, even in high school. We’re pros at it now. Dorm rooms, the library, locker rooms, the back of my truck, to mention a few.
Madeline’s hands are already at my belt, fumbling in that impatient way she does when she’s decided she wants something. I lift her onto the counter, shoving aside the dishes, not caring when something crashes to the floor. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I can feel how ready she is, how wet, and I groan against her neck.
Fuck, I love her. I never get enough. I see other dumb shits on my team hopping from chick to chick. There are also the ones that are married but are still messing around or the ones who stay in a relationship when they’re miserable. I don’t envy any of them. I got lucky my first time out of the gate. The best shot of my life was the one that got me Madeline.
“Bedroom,” I manage, but I’m already grinding against her, losing my mind. All these years and she can do that to me. I’ve burned hot for her since the moment I saw her, when she gave me lip and told me she bit. It’s one of my favorite memories of us. A story I can’t wait to tell our children when they get older.
“Can’t wait,” she breathes, biting my earlobe. “Need you now, Luke. Right here.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I always need her right now.
I push the jersey up, exposing her breasts. They’re fuller now, softer, changed from nursing three babies but still perfect. I take one hard nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, and she arches into me, her fingers tangling in my hair and giving a slight pull.
“Yes, please,” she whispers, and I love when she begs. “Please, I need you inside me.”
I free myself from my pants and guide myself to her opening. I push in with one smooth stroke, filling her to the hilt. She lets out a small gasp, her head falling back against the cabinet, and I have to stop, have to hold still for a second because she feels so fucking good, so tight. I’m not going to last.
“Move,” she demands, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Honey, move,” Madeline orders me again.
I do, setting a pace that’s hard and deep, the way I know she likes it, the way that has her whimpering in the back of her throat. The kitchen fills with the sound of skin on skin, our breathing. I watch her face, loving to see her fall apart for me. There is nothing better in this whole damn world.
“Touch yourself,” I order, my voice rough. “I want to feel you squeeze me.” Her lips tip up into a half smile, and she slides her hand between us, her fingers finding her clit, and I feel the moment she gets close. I know her body better than I know my own. Her pussy begins fluttering around me, her breath hitching.
“That’s it, Buttercup. Come for me,” I manage to grit out, barely holding my own orgasm back. I need her with me, always.
She breaks with a cry that she tries to muffle against my shoulder, her whole body shaking, and I follow her over the edge, burying myself deep and spilling inside her with a groan that sounds like her name.
We stay like that for a long moment, breathing hard, her legs still wrapped around me. I kiss her throat, her jaw, her mouth, and where I can reach.
“I love you,” I whisper against her lips.
“I know.” She smiles, lazy and satisfied. “I love you, too.” Madeline gives a small tug to the back of my hair, her fingers tangled there.
I carry her up to bed, stripping off the rest of our clothes and crawling under the covers. She curls into my side, her hand on my chest, and I stare up at the ceiling, listening to the house settle around us.
I used to think family was bullshit.
I grew up watching my father use my mother, use us, and throw us away when we weren’t useful anymore. Thought that’s what families did. They just take and take until there is nothing left, then blame you for not giving them more.
I was wrong, and I don’t have a problem admitting that. I’m thankful I was.
Madeline taught me that. She gives everything she has to everyone she loves—her time, her energy, her heart—and she does it without keeping score. She doesn’t give to get anything in return. She gives because that’s who she is. Because love, to her, isn’t a transaction. It’s just... breathing. Being.