Page 8

Silas

There’s no question about it. Lily has to be mine. Whatever it takes, I need to schedule a wedding, pick out a beautiful ring, and figure out the best shops for her to choose a dress.

While I’m here already seeing the future, Lily’s body is jerking and adjusting to what is happening in the present.

My cock aches beneath her, and I don’t need to look to know that I’ve ruined a good pair of pants. It could’ve been all the rubbing she did against my lap that did the final blow, but I’ve come undone just before her.

I should feel embarrassed, but this was the hottest thing I’ve experienced in a decade. Maybe longer.

When I slide my fingers out of her pussy and toward her clit, she doesn’t waste time batting my hand away. Oversensitized, her body goes limp against mine.

Nothing has ever felt so right before in my life.

I don’t think I want to ever let a moment like this go.

She’s a melted puddle against my lap, my chest, all warm skin and boneless satisfaction. I stroke her hair, my fingers catching in the damp strands at her temples. Her breathing still comes in uneven little huffs, and when I shift, she makes a soft, protesting noise.

“C’mon,” I murmur, nudging her. “Up. Just for a second.”

She groans but obeys, pushing up on shaky arms. Her legs wobble when I guide her to stand, and she sways into me, trusting me to keep her upright.

I do, one arm around her waist while the other swipes her underwear and shorts from the floor.

Then I lift her, discovering just how light she is, and carry her down the hall so we can get our rest.

I don’t take her to her room.

Mine is closer, darker, the sheets still rumpled from this morning. I lay her down, and she sighs, curling into the pillow like she belongs there. It’s a shame it took so long to discover the fact.

Slipping off toward the bathroom long enough to get cleaned up and to put on a new pair of underwear, I return with a warm, damp rag.

She’s half-asleep, her lashes fluttering as I wipe between her thighs. She hums, arching slightly, but doesn’t complain. I work gently, then tug her underwear back on, my fingers greedily touching every inch of skin I can.

Once I slide in beside her and pull her to my chest, I discover how well she fits against my body. Swallowing, my throat feels tight.

This is love. I know it is. However, it’s also new, and I’m not accustomed to new things. Not used to the way my chest aches when she nuzzles into me, not used to the fear that she’ll up and leave my life altogether.

Her breath evens out against my skin, and she’s out like a light.

I hold her tighter and sigh into her hair. Pressing my lips against the crown of her head, I keep my confession to myself, choosing to save it for a better time. I’ve really worn her out.

She’s not used to this either, surely never having had a man between her legs. The revelation is one that’ll go to my head every single time I think about it.

Whatever it takes, I won’t let another man near her.

* * *

It’s not the morning sun that wakes me up—it’s her.

The slow stretch of her body against mine, the way her back arches just slightly as she rouses. My arm is locked around her waist, holding her in place, but she doesn’t fight it. Not even a little.

Instead, she presses closer, nuzzling into my chest like she’s determined to soak up every last bit of my warmth before the day steals her away.

Her wavy brown hair is a mess, strands clinging to her flushed cheeks, catching in the soft part of her lips. I reach up, brushing them away, and her eyes crack open—just enough for me to see the way the sunlight turns her usual deep brown into something golden, rich like honey.

She blinks up at me, slow, drowsy, and her lips curve in a sleep-soft smile.

“Morning,” she murmurs, voice rough in that way that sends heat straight through me.

I tighten my arm around her, sighing into her hair before breathing in deep. If I pretend I’m still asleep, we don’t have to separate. Not yet.

She laughs, the sound fueling the thumping of my heart. Settling in, her fingers tracing idle patterns over my ribs like she’s memorizing the shape of me.

Is she wondering if this is real? I’ve already asked myself twice, so I wouldn’t blame her.

Her fingers are still against my ribs when she sits up, the sheet pooling around her waist. Sunlight spills over her flushed cheeks, catching in the loose waves of her hair as she looks down at me.

“It’s Sunday,” she says, like it’s some kind of revelation.

I know what day it is. I’ve reminded myself ten times over.

“Just for today, let’s not work. Let’s take today off,” she pleads, her thumbs brushing over my skin. “Just one day. We can swim in the lake. Or fish. Or just lie in the sun and do nothing. I seriously want to relax and do nothing.”

Her smile is all sweetness, all warmth, but something in my chest twists.

“And then what?” I ask, voice rougher than I mean it to be.

Her brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“After—” I sit up, forcing her back just enough to meet her eyes. “—you’ve relaxed. What happens then?”

The auction is over. Her debt’s paid. She doesn’t owe me a damn thing anymore—not her time, not her body, not the return of my love.

So what the hell happens now? I need to know. I can’t let her leave my bed until I have my answer.

Lily stares at me, lips parted. For a second, she doesn’t move. Then she blinks, slow, like she’s turning my words over in her head.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she finally says, voice small. “Or, am I assuming after everything that happened last night? Maybe this… isn’t something you want to continue. You don’t really seem like the kind of guy who would fool around.”

My brows slam down. What?

She laughs then—a quiet, nervous sound that shouldn’t hit me as hard as it does. But it does. It punches through me, sharp and bright, and suddenly my heart is hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to break free.

“Fool around?” The words come out rough, edged with something too close to disbelief.

Before she can blink, I’m rolling her beneath me, pressing her into the mattress, my body caging hers. She gasps, but there’s no fear in those golden-brown eyes—just heat and need.

“You think that’s what this is?” I growl, leaning down until my lips brush the shell of her ear. “That I could be the kind of man who fucks a woman like it means nothing?”

Her breath hitches. She immediately shakes her head, and the tension in my limbs loosens.

“I’m not the type to fool around, Lily. When I find the one—” My thumb traces her bottom lip, and my tongue runs along my own. “—I settle. And you? There’s no question about it. You’re it.”

Her eyes widen, but a smile starts creeping in, slow and sweet and smug.

“So,” I murmur, dragging my knuckles down her throat, “question is—can you handle me? Knowing I won’t let go? Knowing our differences don’t mean shit to me?”

Her hands slide up my chest, fingertips tracing every ridge of muscle, every scar, like she’s relearning me. When they reach my jaw, she cups my face, her thumbs brushing over my stubble.

“Prove it,” she whispers, wiggling under me just enough to make my blood roar. “Show me how bad you want me.”

After last night, she should know that all she has to do is beg me for whatever she wants, and I’ll happily give it to her.

Right now, she’s playing safe. Avoiding the act carefully.

Little minx. Not that it matters. If she lights up as quickly as she had the night before, I won’t have to wait for long before she’s pleading for more.

I don’t hesitate. My mouth crashes down on hers, swallowing her gasp. Pressing my weight against her, her moan vibrates against my teeth.

I want to finish what we started. Make her mine.