Page 27

JACKSON

Tears sting my eyes. Fucking depression.

Aurora’s fingernails glide over my scalp. “You’re not on the ice, burning energy and relieving tension. You don’t do well cooped up. You need sunshine and the outdoors.”

If she’s trying to convince me to return to LA without her, it’s not happening. “I need you .”

“You have me. No one can replace you, Jackson O’Reilly.”

Her voice is playful, her touch soothing. She’s comforting me, as always, not getting rid of me, and the chaos in my brain quiets a bit more.

“Your intoxicating scent, that crooked smile, this mouth…” She tilts her head and places her lips on mine.

A flutter stirs in my stomach, and a chill runs down my spine. I let out a low groan, tangle my fingers in her silky hair, and deepen the kiss. She moans softly, and the heat between us intensifies. I clasp her thigh, bringing her closer.

“How about this?” She glides her tongue over my bottom lip. “How about you feed me your cock, then dinner?”

I pull back and stare at her in disbelief, searching her devilish eyes. “You think a blow job will make me feel better?”

She bites her lips to hide her mischievous grin, and just like that, the tension eases. We fall into place, Aurora and Jackson.

I nod, feigning contemplation. “You’d be right.” I smile, dip my head, and place a kiss under her earlobe. “But I want more than you on your knees for me.”

She wraps her legs around my waist and presses me tight to her center, only the thin material of her leggings and my shorts between us.

Our mouths meet in an urgent entanglement. Hips rock, craving friction, and she whimpers. God, I missed that sound.

I grind against her. “I want to bury myself inside you all fucking night.” I need her—need that deep connection we have.

Yet, I can’t shake the feeling she’s only doing this to prove her love for me rather than her desiring me in this moment.

“Don’t do this,” I pant. “Not unless you truly want me, want us.”

She answers by reaching her hand between our bodies to palm my erection.

An involuntary “fuck” escapes my lips, and my head drops back.

“Stop overthinking.” She trails kisses and bites along my throat. “Do you want this or not?”

She slips into my shorts, and her fingers wrap around me, moving agonizingly slow over my length.

“More than anything,” I groan.

She strokes me faster, twisting her fist, and my heart beats at the speed of light, breaths coming in gasps.

My body surrenders, entirely at her mercy. I grip the granite counter, rock-hard, aching, leaking. “You’re killing me, baby. Please.”

She takes me to the brink, knowing precisely what drives me crazy. I’m already on the edge, pleasure furrowing low in my stomach, my muscles tightening.

“Then give it to me, O’Reilly.” Her voice is pure seduction, captivating me as she does the camera.

Her teeth sink into my neck, and I lose all restraint. I lift her off the island and set her on her feet. Our mouths instantly draw together in a messy kiss, and we stumble toward the bedroom. I lift her shirt over her head, and my gaze fixates on her breasts, overflowing from her black lace bra.

My lips part. “Holy shit, they’re huge .”

She chuckles at my reaction and reaches behind her. “It’s the pregnancy.”

Her bra falls, and my dick twitches. “Damn, we need to keep you pregnant.”

I yank my shirt off and toss it aside. While I’m doing so, she drops to her knees, lowers my shorts, and grips my length. Her hot mouth engulfs me, and my breath catches in my rib cage.

Without hesitation, she takes me into the back of her throat, swallows, and my eyes nearly cross.

I cup the back of her head and flex my hips. “Look at me, baby,” I command, my voice rough as gravel. “Look at what you do to me. You fucking wreck me.”

Her caramel eyes lock with mine, brimming with lust and longing. She sucks and strokes in tandem. Her tongue swirls over the sensitive underside, and I recite my wedding vows, struggling to last until I can come inside her.

She moans with a mouth full of my cock, and my balls draw tight to my shaft.

“Don’t make me come.” I fist her hair, unsure if I want to push or pull. “I need to fuck you.”

I step back, and just to drive me mad, she increases suction until I pop free from her lips.

“Come here,” I growl and lift her to her feet.

Driven by a furious craving to find release within her, I spin us both toward the breakfast table. In a frenzy of motions, I bend her over and press her chest to the surface, careful of the baby.

I rip her leggings and underwear to her mid-thighs, too crazed to remove them entirely, and palm her luscious ass. The view from behind is glorious—soft curves, her glistening pussy peeking through.

“You’re everything, Aurora.” I trace my fingers up her spine and clasp her neck.

This position has me looming over her, my grip ensuring she remains pinned to the table. Her leggings around her thighs further restrict her movement, adding an element of submission and vulnerability.

It’s erotic and primal, just the control I need.

I notch the head of my cock at her entrance and thrust home in one firm, smooth stroke, eliciting a cry from her lips.

“Goddamn, I missed this pussy, baby.”

Her walls clench. “Jax,” she whimpers sweetly.

And my sole mission in life becomes making her soak my cock.

Reaching around, I rub fast circles over her clit while punching my hips forward at a harsh pace. She clutches the edge of the table, her face flushed with desire.

The sound of our skin slapping fills the room, and her ass ripples with each thrust.

“You feel so fucking good,” I groan, on the brink of an orgasm once again. “I’m going to spend every single day filling you with my cum.”

Her mouth opens on a silent moan, her body feverish, pussy so wet, her cream covers my shaft. I can’t drag my gaze away—my hard, glistening cock sliding in and out of her tight, bare cunt, and fuck me, I need her to come.

I angle my hips downward and pound into her, matching my thrusts with the movement of my fingers. “Give me more. I want you dripping from me.”

She pulses around me, releasing a strangled cry of pleasure. Her cunt becomes a vise grip, and every stroke has waves of ecstasy shooting through my veins.

My pace turns erratic, my dick unbearably hard. I tip my head back, and the orgasm hits like a bolt of lightning.

I slam into her one last time, my vision darkening, a broken “fuuuuuck” the only sound to escape my clenched teeth. My brain has lost all ability to speak coherent words.

My body collapses over her, my forearms taking my weight. My lips find hers, kissing her as I gasp for air, my cock jolting deep inside her.

She runs her fingers through my sweaty hair, and my senses slowly return, along with my doubt.

“You never said we’re together.” The thought leaves my mouth.

“What?”

“Say you take me back. No ultimatums. No one foot out the door. I fight for you, you fight for me.”

She doesn’t immediately answer, and panic splinters in my chest.

“I’ll fight for you as long as you fight for us . There’s not just me anymore.” She peers into my eyes. “Do you want to be a part of this baby’s life?”

She’s focused on the baby. I’m no longer her number one, but I can live with that. I love him. He’s mine too.

“Yes. Absolutely. One hundred and fifty percent.” I place a gentle kiss on her lips. “Because I’m taking half of Ethan’s claim.”

She giggles. “No, you are not.”

“That baby is inside you, which means it’s mine too.”

“You’re insane.”

“Certifiably—we know this—but I’m yours.”

With a soft smile, she sighs. “You are.”

That’s all I need to hear. My heart is whole. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” I repeat the words as I trail kisses along the delicate curve of her neck.

“I love you too,” she replies. “But I’m about to drop to the floor if you don’t feed me.”

My lips curl into a stupid grin. “I’ll feed you for the rest of my life.”

“Sounds good. Now, get off me, you Neanderthal.”

Ricky

I’ll never eat in that kitchen again.

I yank the headphones from my partner’s head. “Stop listening! You think he’ll scream Kyle’s secrets while five inches deep?”

He chokes on the coffee he just brought to his lips.

His face turns red, and he pounds his chest, grinning from ear to ear.

“Five inches?” Tears run from his eyes, and he brushes them away, struggling to rein himself in.

“You’ve got it bad. He’s six-three. He’s at least seven to eight.

Everyone knows every inch over six foot is another inch of dick. ”

Despite being agitated, my brain attempts the math. I blink and blink again. “What?”

“It’s true. It’s science.”

“No, it fucking isn’t.”

Still…I’m about six-six, measuring in at… Do piercings count? No, piercings don’t count. Carry the one… That can’t be right. Fuck it. Either way, science says I’m bigger.

“See? You’re trying to work it out in your head, aren’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter. Stop listening.”