Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
She just closes her eyes and nods.
"Selena lied." I pull out almost completely, then thrust back in hard enough to make the door rattle. "I've wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you."
I slam into her, deeper this time, as I try to find my rhythm. Emily whimpers again, nails raking down my back.
My thrusts become faster, harder, and more merciless. I'm pounding into her like a man possessed, my muscles contracting with the need to fill her with my seed.
Her legs tighten around me, heels digging into my lower back.
"You like this, Em? Like me claiming you like this?" I adjust my grip, changing the angle, and she gasps. "Between the rattling door and your whimpers, everyone will know what's happening here."
The door shakes with each thrust now. Anyone walking by would hear us, hear her moans, the wet slap of our bodies connecting. I don't care. Let them hear. Let them all know.
I drop my mouth to her neck, finding her pulse point, sucking hard. Marking her again where everyone will see.
"God, Alex. I'm close."
One hand leaves her thigh, finding its way between us, my thumb circling her clit. She's soaking wet, making it easy to slide against her sensitive flesh.
"Come for me, Em. Come on my cock."
Her breathing changes, becomes more erratic. Her pussy flutters around my cock, the first tremors of her orgasm. I keep the pressure steady on her clit, keep thrusting at the same angle, pushing her ever closer to the edge.
When she comes, it's with a deep moan, her head thrown back, body arched away from the door. Her pussy clamps down on my cock in rhythmic pulses, pulling me deeper, milking me.
The sensation has me barreling towards my own release. A surge of heat, violent and sudden, courses through me. I thrust deep one last time and let go, coming hard inside her.
"Emily," I groan, burying my face in her neck as the pleasure crashes over me. "Fuck, Emily."
For a minute, maybe longer, we don't move. I'm still inside her, both of us breathing hard. Her head rests on my shoulder, and her heart pounds against my chest.
After what feels like a long time, I finally ease out of her and set her down carefully. Her legs wobble, and I have to steady her.
"Sorry. My legs don't seem to be working."
"Good. It means I did my job."
That gets a laugh out of her, breathless and a little punchy from the comedown. I brush her hair back from her face, gentler now that the initial frenzy has passed, and bend to scoop her up.
Emily makes a surprised sound but doesn't protest as I carry her to the bed and lay her down carefully. Croissant is perched on the dresser, looking thoroughly disgusted. And inconvenienced— again.
"Your cat's staring at me," I say as I slide in beside her.
"He stares at everyone. He stares at me like that when I'm taking too long to feed him." She curls against me, one leg thrown over mine, her head on my chest. "Will you stay tonight? I know it sounds stupid after all this, but I really don't want to wake up alone."
I tighten my arm around her and press a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere, Em. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. You're stuck with me forever."
EPILOGUE
EMILY
Iwake to the familiar feeling of being watched. Warm sunlight bathes the bedroom, and before I even open my eyes, I know Alex is there, propped on one elbow, studying my face.
"You're doing it again," I murmur, blinking sleep away.
"Doing what?" His voice is morning-rough, that deep rumble that makes my stomach flutter.
"Watching me sleep. It's creepy." I smile to soften the words.
"Been doing it for a year. You haven't complained yet."
I stretch, feeling Croissant's weight across our feet. My apartment looks different now—Alex's running shoes by the door, his clothes hanging next to mine, his reading chair beside my couch.
It has been ours for six months now. He claimed my place was cozier than his and said he liked the idea of having a pet to 'guard' our home. Croissant has warmed up to him, but they still have staring contests every now and then.
Something catches my eye on the nightstand. An envelope with my name written in his precise handwriting.
"Alex, what's this? This month's bills?"
Alex just snorts. "Open it."
I sit up, sliding my finger under the seal. The card is simple—no hearts or cupids, just a black-and-white photograph of two coffee cups on a balcony rail. Inside is a single blush pink rose and a short note that says:
Emily,
You make mornings worth waking up for … even if you still refuse to run with me unless it's with the promise of pastries.
This year has been the best of my life.
You're everything I didn't know I needed. Happy Valentine's Day. I love you so damn much.