in.
“More,” she said, and there was an edge to her voice I hadn’t heard directed at me before. But I’d heard it in her office.
A command.
I fully seated my cock inside of her.
I wasn’t going to survive this.
“More, more, more,” she cried. I wrapped the strands of her hair around my fist. Yanked. Slid all the way out and slammed all the way back in.
Luna turned her head around. “It’s too intense,” she whimpered. “Beck, it’s too… too much.”
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” I said, giving my hips a roll that sent her body pitching forward. She sobbed my name. “Tell me what you need.”
“To come,” she said.
Biology took over. I kept hold of her hair with one hand and began to fuck her thoroughly, as if nothing else in the world mattered except her pleasure. And nothing else did matter—I could admit that now, watching my cock slide in and out of her pussy, hearing the way she cried my name, like the sound of it got her hot.
This scene got me hot—fucking this woman on her hands and knees on a rock in the middle of a private beach. Even if someone was watching us, fucking good. Let them see it—let them see how obsessed I was with this woman.
I drove into her from behind with long, even strokes that made her scream and gasp and cry out as I pulled on her beautiful hair. But as she got close, I pulled out and flipped her back over. Slid inside her body with her legs around my waist. Angled my pelvis so I ground against her clit as I let her have it, fucking her fast, with no sense of control.
But our mouths spoke a different story. I fucked Luna like an animal—but kissed her with all the tenderness I had, both hands in her hair as I drank her in. Trying to show her how she made me feel.
Luna’s orgasm rushed over her—and I was swept away too. I cried out against her mouth as I emptied inside of her. The release was too good, too perfect, too real, like it was never going to stop.
She stroked my face, held my gaze as I rode out the pleasure.
She kissed my cheek. My jaw.
Forget one brick falling. Luna had officially sent my walls tumbling down. I pressed our foreheads together. She was still staring at me with dark eyes. Eyes that saw me for who I was, completely.
Who showed you love, Beck?
No one had shown me love, not then. Not at all.
But I knew who was showing me love now.
46
Luna
It was Friday night and I was staring bleary-eyed at my computer. I was sitting cross-legged in my living room on a meditation cushion, wearing yoga pants and a giant tee-shirt, hair in a messy ponytail.
I felt… ready.
I was going to start Wild Heart’s Foundation.
And I’d never been happier.
The only distraction I’d had in the last seventy-two hours was the fact that Beck had fucked me into a literal sex daze on that rock. I found myself staring out the window more than usual, replaying everything we’d done on a dirty little loop inside my brain.
Beck’s fingers, yanking on my hair.
Beck’s mouth, tasting me everywhere.
Beck’s miracle of a cock—which had done what I’d fantasized about. Stretched me perfectly, filled me just right. Stroked nerve endings into a deep, delirious fire of sensation that made me scream. Was it any wonder I couldn’t stop thinking about that filthy fu—
The doorbell rang, storming through my hundredth sexual daydream that day. It was after ten, which meant probably Daisy, looking to borrow body glitter before heading out on some extravagant yacht adventure.
“You can take my glitter but you have to bring it back this time, Daze,” I called out, yawning into my hand as I walked toward the front door. “I might need it this weekend—oh.”
Not Daisy at the door.
Beck Mason. Holding his helmet under one arm and a delicious-smelling plate in the other.
“Hi,” he said, looking shy.
“Hi,” I breathed. I knew I sounded obsessed but who cared. “What are you doing here?”
“Um. I know you’ve been really busy the past few days and we haven’t seen each other since, you know, our date. I made you vegan peanut butter cup cookies. Or tried to.”
I lifted the cloth to find twelve irregularly shaped cookies that looked half-burnt, half-undercooked and absolutely delicious. “I usually only can make macaroni and cheese from a box. And Jem wasn’t there to help. They’re probably terrible.”
“I think this