Page 92 of Almost Rotten

“God, honey. Say that again.”

Eyes closed but smiling, she mewls my name, her lips brushing my throat. Sharp nails scrape down my chest, inspiring goose bumps to erupt all over.

I pull her closer, our bodies flush, my cock nestled against the apex of her thighs.

I want to be inside her.

So much so that I might just ask her point-blank.

“Sawyer.”

At the use of her real name, she peers up at me, her brows pinched with curiosity.

“Can I fuck you, too?”

Mercer scoffs, but I’m not paying him any mind. How could I, with this perfect specimen between us, touching me everywhere and whispering my name?

“Please,” she breathes, reaching between our bodies and lining me up where she wants me.

Breath held, I bend my knees, determined to get the angle just right. She leans back against Mercer, but her gaze remains fixed on me.

The warmth and wetness that tease the head of my cock as I notch myself at her entrance has nothing to do with the steamy water still pounding down around us.

With a steady hand on her low back and the other cupping the back of her head, I shift forward and ease into her.

An overwhelming sensation of peace washes over me, growing with each inch I sink further.

Her mouth falls open, her pretty brown irises darkening but never leaving mine.

When I’m fully sheathed, I look down, because how could I fucking resist?

Where I end, she begins.

We’re connected in the most visceral, intimate way.

Eyes closed, I let my chin drop, overwhelmed with emotion.

She feels so good. This—us? It feels so right.

And yet…

A hand at my nape pulls me from my thoughts.

I snap my head up to find Mercer’s steady gaze boring into me.

He doesn’t ask.

He doesn’t press.

But he sees me. He knows the battle in my head and my heart.

What once was can never be again.

What’s happening now? This moment, this woman, this chance?

I won’t let it slip away. I won’t take it for granted.

Swallowing, I press my lips to the crown of Sawyer’s head.