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“Want to see you,” he said suddenly, flipping us in one smooth, powerful motion so I was on top, straddling his hips, his cock never leaving the clenching heat of my pussy. The shift made me gasp, the new angle driving him even deeper, the head of his shaft pressing against that spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyelids. The mattress creaked under our combined weight.

“Been dreaming about this view.” His eyes raked over me, taking in the way my breasts bounced slightly with the movement, nipples hard and aching, my thighs spread wide over his hips, the coarse hair at his base tickling my sensitive folds.

I sank down onto him slowly, savoring the way his thick length speared me open, inch by veined inch, my inner muscles rippling around him as I adjusted to the fullness. I watched his face contort with pleasure, his jaw slackening, eyes fluttering half-shut, a low moan escaping his lips as I seated myself fully, grinding my clit against his pubic bone in a slow circle that made us both shudder. The stretch was exquisite, bordering on too much, my arousal dripping down his shaft to coat his balls.

His hands found my hips, large palms spanning the width of me, callused fingers digging into the soft flesh with just enough pressure to bruise, letting me set the pace as I wanted. I braced my palms on his chest. Each downward slide made his abs clench visibly, the muscles rippling under my touch, his fingers tightening to leave crescent marks in my skin. The sting only heightened the building pressure in my core.

“So fucking beautiful,” he groaned, thrusting up shallowly to meet my movements, the slap of our bodies echoing softly. “Look at you. Tits bouncing, pussy swallowing my cock whole. Perfect. Mine. All mine.”

The possessive words ignited something feral in my blood, making my clit throb and my pace quicken. Sweat beaded on my skin, trickling down my back. When he reached between us again, his thumb finding my swollen clit, pressing down and circling with devastating precision, I shattered.

Pleasure exploded through me, walls clamping down on his pistoning cock in rhythmic spasms, milking him as I cried out, body convulsing, nails digging bloody trails down his chest. Juices gushed around him, soaking us both, my vision whiting out as waves of ecstasy crashed over me, my thighs quaking uncontrollably.

The tightening of my pussy pulled him over the edge with me. His hips bucked up wildly, driving deep one final time, burying himself to the root as he came with a groan that vibrated through both of us, his cock pulsing hot ropes of cum deep inside me. He held me there, grinding up into the aftershocks, prolonging the bliss until we were both trembling, spent and boneless.

We collapsed in a tangle of limbs and laughter, both giddy with endorphins and the newness of it all. I traced patterns on his chest while he played with my hair, neither of us willing to let go completely.

“Your family’s intense,” I said after a few minutes.

“They loved you.”

I lifted my head from his chest to look him in the eye, curious. “How can you tell?”

“Finn didn’t say anything truly horrifying. That’s basically a marriage proposal in Calloway speak.”

I laughed, burrowing closer. “Your mom definitely knew what we did upstairs.”

“My mom orchestrated the whole thing. Noa sleeping over wasn’t spontaneous.”

“Your mother is terrifying.”

“She likes you. That should terrify you more.”

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached for it, still playing with my hair, but his whole body went rigid when he read the screen.

“What?” I propped up on an elbow.

He showed me the text from an unknown number: “Enjoy my wife. She’ll leave you too. They always do.”

Garrett?

The restraining order I’d filed specifically included no contact through third parties. He’d violated it to target Tyson, choosing the one night I’d been completely happy to remind me he was still watching.

Still claiming ownership.

Fuck him.

22

— • —

Sam

Rachel’s voice crackled through my phone speaker while I paced my kitchen, still wearing Tyson’s t-shirt from last night.

“The text to Mr. Calloway is a clear violation of the restraining order,” she said. “I’ll push for an emergency hearing.”

“Got it.” I watched Tyson pour coffee, completely unbothered by the fact my ex-husband was threatening him via text. “What about criminal charges?”