Page 2

He fucked me slowly, bringing our bodies closer together with each stroke. "I never get enough of you.” He thrust deeper and my hands flew to his sides, grasping him tightly.

I couldn’t respond. I could barely think, lost in the way he filled me, the way his hands cradled my face.

He groaned, his forehead pressing against mine.

His words were a soft mantra, spoken with raw, unguarded emotion. “I love you. Fuck, I love you so much.”

A warmth bloomed in my chest, wrapping around the intensity of the moment. His eyes locked with mine, and the world outside us ceased to exist.

“Tell me you love me, Mint,” he murmured, his tone soft.

A shiver ran through me as I moaned his name, my body arching to meet his. Words escaped me, caught between the pleasure and the unrelenting pull of him.

His movements quickened, each thrust sending me spiraling further into the space we shared, a place that felt infinite and safe all at once.

“Say it.”

“I love you,” I managed, barely.

“Again,” he urged his hands tangling in my hair, grounding me as he moved faster, deeper.

“I love you,” I choked out, every nerve attuned to him, responding to the way he claimed me. His name spilled from my lips in a series of soft cries, my mind a haze of pleasure and connection.

The moment built between us, a crescendo of raw emotion and physicality. The sound of our bodies moving together filled the room, punctuated by my gasps and his low groans. I clung to him, my nails digging into his back as I spiraled closer to the edge.

His movements became harsher, each thrust a silent declaration of how deeply he needed me.

“Wilder,” I gasped, my voice breaking as the pleasure crested, a tidal wave that left me trembling beneath him as I came, my pussy clenching around his dick. He followed moments later, his release a warm pulse that sent aftershocks through my body.

He kissed me again, tender, and almost reverent like he was worshiping the very air I breathed.

He found my hands and laced our fingers together without breaking away.

We’d been doing this for years, yet every time felt just as intense and consuming—whether it was rough, gentle, or somewhere in between. Wilder had a way of making it feel like the first time,everytime. I wasn’t sure if it was normal to sleep together as often as we did, but it worked for us. He was definitely a giver before he took for himself.

We stayed like that for a few minutes longer before he withdrew slowly. I immediately felt the loss.

I beamed at him and stretched. “Thanks for that.”

He laughed. “I feel like I just got a slap on the ass and told good game.”

“Same thing, really,” I joked, slowly sitting up.

“What are you doing?”

I ran my hands through my hair, forcing back a yawn. “Bathroom.”

“Let me have you for five more minutes.”

He didn’t give me much of a choice, already pulling me into his arms.

The phone buzzed on his side of the bed, the soft vibration breaking the silence in the room. I dozed back off at some point and vaguely remembered Wilder slipping out to grab a glass of water.

The same buzz came two more times and that was enough to fully get my attention. It was damn near 3 AM. That wasn’t the time for casual conversation, so who the hell was blowing him up?

I rolled over and grabbed the phone just as the preview for his group chat that he usually muted when we were together. It was only a few words, but that was enough to make my stomach drop. I told myself not to look. These were Wilder’s private messages—his life outside of us. Instinct, or maybe just raw curiosity, got the better of me. I quickly entered his pin, unlocking his cell and going right to the thread.

Thorne: