Page 95 of Hold Me Tight

A broken sound slips from me. A moan, maybe a plea. But without question, it’s surrender.

“Please, River.”

He growls, like he’s savoring every second of my capitulation. “You have no idea what it does to me when you beg.” His strokes become tighter. Slower. “There’s nothing better than the sound of my name sliding from your lips.”

I release another needy whimper.

“Tell me what it is you want,” he says. “My tongue or cock? It’s your decision. I’ll give you whatever you need. All you have to do is ask.”

I don’t even hesitate. “Your cock.”

His eyes darken with heat. “Good choice.”

And in that moment, I feel how he’s not just about to make love to my body but every single piece of me I’ve kept hidden away.

And I’m ready to let him.

He rises onto his knees, settling between my thighs like he belongs there. Like he’s always belonged there. His hand wraps around his thick length, stroking slowly from the base to the tip until a single drop of moisture beads at the slit.

The sight of him so hard and full of need sends another wave of arousal through my core. He shifts, hips flexing with slow, deliberate control as he drags his cock through my center. The hard, velvety length glides against me until my body trembles beneath the relentless friction. Every pass steals another piece of my sanity, winding me tighter, making me ache for more.

My head tips back against the pillow, lips parted on a sigh, eyes fluttering shut as I lose myself in the delicious sensation.

“Oh no, baby,” he rasps, the warning curling through me like smoke. “I want your eyes open for this. I want you to see exactly who’s filling up your pussy and giving you every ounce of pleasure. I need you to see who’s worshipping your body. Every fucking day, if you let me.”

His words jolt through me. My eyes snap open, and another wave of molten desire crashes over me, flooding every nerve.

The way River looks right now, kneeling over me, muscles tight, thick cock gripped in his hand as he strokes it against me, is an image that will forever be seared into my mind.

“Are you ready?” The muscle in his jaw tics a mad rhythm, as though holding back is costing him everything.

“Yes.”

When he finally pushes inside, the movement is measured, as if every inch is deliberate. He doesn’t rush or slam into me. He sinks in as if this isn’t just about sex but about the moment.

About me.

My body stretches to accommodate him, greedy for the fullness, the heat, the dizzying sensation of being taken and claimed in a way that leaves no room for doubt about who’s inside me.

And I’m shaking. Not from nerves or fear, but from the weight of everything I’ve been holding back. From the cracks splintering through walls I swore would never come down.

Once he’s filled me completely, he holds still, letting me feel every inch. His solid weight settles over me as his forehead presses against mine.

“Are you okay? Should I keep going?” he asks.

I nod, my fingers curling into the hard muscle of his back. “Please, don’t stop.”

When he moves, each deep stroke feels like a promise. Each thrust is a tie that binds us tighter. There’s no rush or careless push for release. Every motion is controlled, as if he’s pouring meaning into it.

This man doesn’t just take, he gives.

It’s with the subtle drag of his mouth along my jaw and the way his eyes lock on mine, as if I’m the only thing in the room worth looking at.

Heat builds in waves as my legs loop around his waist, drawing him closer. I want all of him. Every inch, every ounce of weight and pressure. I want to feel him deeper, until there’s not a single millimeter of space left between us.

I arch beneath him, chasing the pressure, the orgasm building in my core. But it’s not just the pleasure that undoes me. It’s this man. The way he murmurs my name like a prayer. The way our fingers tangle together. The way his mouth finds mine, as if he’s trying to memorize me with every kiss.

His hand cradles my face. “It’s okay to fall apart, Callie. I’ll always be there to catch you.”