Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,318

at us communicating,” she said wryly.

“Like a dream.” He moved to lie over her, every rough-hewn inch of him pressed boldly against her body, the perfection of his smile filling her vision. She felt his thick erection pushing against her belly, that wicked piercing so different from his soft skin and crisp hair. She’d only just come, but her pussy tightened in anticipation of his swollen shaft. Her hips rolled without permission, rubbing against him, and he growled and bit his own lip.

“Fuck, Rae. Tell me you want me.”

“So much.” Her voice was shattered, but her lust rang out loud and clear. Their eyes met, and it was such a relief not to hide. “I want you so much in every way, and I have you, and I’m not letting you go.”

He groaned and thrust against her belly, his pre-come silky on her skin. He smelled like salt and desperation. “That was pretty fucking romantic, sunshine. Are you coming down with something?”

“Impatience.”

“I’ve got you,” he rasped. And then again, a few minutes later, his fingers slick and sure as he prepared her for his cock. “I’ve got you, love.” Tight, wet circles over her needy clit; long, thick fingers buried inside her. His jaw was tight, his control palpable, but she wanted the storm hiding inside him.

“Please,” she whispered. “I need you. I need you.”

He let her go and rolled on a condom.

Remembering the slow, blissful morning they’d shared last weekend, Rae lay on her side, her back against his chest. He grasped her thigh with a shaking hand and spread her legs. His breaths were laboured, his heart pounding so hard she felt it against her spine. Then the head of his cock nudged her entrance from behind.

She could barely speak. Even her moans were breathless. But she managed to say, “Now. Please. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

He groaned as if the words were a touch. Then he thrust hard, rocked deep, and took her completely. His arms were iron bars around her, and each stroke of his cock unravelled her mind. She clutched at his tense forearms and gasped, sobbed, begged for more. He sank his teeth into her shoulder and gave it to her.

He gave her everything.

Rae’s second orgasm was a lightning-bolt blow to her nerve endings, a wave of beautiful devastation. Behind her, Zach choked out a moan, one hand gripping her hip to hold her still. “Jesus,” he gasped. “Fuck, you feel so good, squeezing my dick. Rae—”

She felt the moment he came, too, his whole body spasming behind her, his voice cutting out and his cock pulsing between her thighs. As soon as he finished, he rolled her over and kissed her like his life depended on it.

Later, when she was dazed and satisfied, and he’d dealt with the condom, she said, because she felt like it, “I really, really love you.”

“And I really, really love you.”

This was peace. Pure and simple.

He gathered her close and kissed the top of her head, holding her for a while. Then he broke the comfortable silence to say, “Nice of Duke to stay downstairs through all of that.”

Rae snorted, clapping a hand to her mouth. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying. Very considerate.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She poked his ribs. He poked back. She pulled his hair. He smacked her arse and bent his head to lick her nipple. After a moment, she was gasping, “Alright, okay. You win.”

He pushed her onto her back. Bent over her breast again with obvious intent. “You’re damn right I do.”

Pleasure shivered through her, but somehow, she kept her wits. “Do you know what this is?”

He looked up, releasing her breast. He must’ve seen something serious in her face, because he caught her hand and twined their fingers together. “What is it, sunshine?”

“This is a happy ending.”

His eyes shone with satisfaction. “Oh. Shit. You’re right.”

Epilogue

Two Years Later

It was a sweltering Friday night in August, and the Unicorn’s beer garden was full of disapproving stares. Baby Ann McRae, infamously gauche divorcée, had recently increased her scandalous behaviour. Bad enough that she’d started sleeping with the town trollop, a man twelve years younger and ten times prettier than she was. Even worse that they’d moved in together, living in obnoxious sin, as if they truly didn’t care what the Ravenswood gossips said. Now they’d gone and fucking done it, they really, really had. Because Rae’s left hand, the one currently skating through Zach’s dark hair, sported an emerald and sapphire engagement ring so bright you could see

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