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I close the door behind us and latch it.

“Cool,” I say. “This is where I fuck you.”

She turns and stops. Her brows lift.

“Oh?” she says, mouth twitching.

“Sweetheart,” I say, stalking toward her slow and deliberate, “You dragged me into a bunker, tied me to a bed, fed me homemade pizza and gave me a personal tool bench.” I pause, grabbing her hips, pressing her back against the wall. “You brought me home.”

Her breath hitches, just a little.

And I grin. “You really think I’m not gonna break this bed in?”

She tries to sass me, of course she does, but the moment I press my mouth to hers, she melts.

One second, I’m tasting her, and the next she’s clawing at my shirt like she wants to rip it off with her teeth.

I help her, stripping fast, greedy. She’s just as bad, peeling off her top, wiggling out of her jeans. And when she’s bare in front of me? I stop breathing for a second.

Because fuck, she’s gorgeous.

Body soft in all the places I want to bite. Tight in the places I want to grip. And so wet already I swear she was thinking about this from the second I opened my eyes.

“I knew it,” I mutter, dragging my hand down her stomach, sliding lower. “You’ve been dripping for me all damn morning, haven’t you?”

She nods, flushed, pupils blown wide.

And that’s it.

I lift her like she weighs nothing, throw her on the bed, and climb over her. Kiss her so deep she whimpers. Then I spread her open with one hand and sink two fingers in just to hear the way she gasps.

“Yeah,” I groan. “You’re ready.”

She drags her nails down my back, pulling me close. “Dean,” she breathes, like it’s a confession.

And then I’m lining up, pushing in slow and thick, until we both break.

It’s raw.

It’s messy.

It’s filthy.

She bites my shoulder. I thrust harder.

She wraps her legs around me like she’s trying to keep me. I slam into her like I’m trying to stay.

“Fucking hell,” I growl, voice ragged against her throat. “You feel like a goddamn fever dream.”

She moans something, my name, maybe, or yes or faster, but I don’t really care because I’m not stopping until she screams.

Until she comes so hard the walls echo with it.

Her back arches off the bed like I’ve cracked her open, her nails drag down my spine like she wants to tear her name into me, and her cunt clenches so goddamn tight around my cock it feels like she’s trying to keep me.

“Fuck, baby,” I grunt, sweat slick on my skin as I piston into her, hard enough the headboard slams the wall. “You wanna scream for me? Go on. Fuckin’ scream.”

She gasps, raw, wrecked, and that sound?