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We barely make it through the front door before he’s on me again.

Hudson kicks it shut behind us, and I’m already fisting the front of his shirt, dragging him through the house like I’ve forgotten how to breathe without touching him. We’re still dusted in flour and sugar from the bakery, still slightly sticky from sweat and adrenaline, and I don’t care.

We didn’t speak on the drive home. We didn’t need to. The tension between us is thrumming so loud it might as well be its own heartbeat.

His mouth finds mine before we hit the hallway. It’s messy, all teeth and heat and not nearly enough, and I moan against him as his hands slide down to my ass, lifting me slightly as we stumble toward the bedroom.

We crash through the door and he sets me back on my feet. I shove him backward with a hand to his chest, watching as he stumbles slightly, eyes dark and wild with hunger. He looks good like this—flushed, breathless, wrecked before we’ve even started.

I hook my thumbs into the band of my pants, dragging them down slowly, teasingly, watching as the plea in his eyes morphs into something primal.

I pull off my shirt and bra next, shaking my hair loose, letting it tumble over my shoulders. Hudson watches me like I’m something divine. Something untouchable.

And it makes me feel so fucking powerful.

I have the control here. I hold the cards. I get to set the rules.

To test that control, I pop the button on his jeans and drag them down along with his boxers. His sharp inhale, the way his muscles tense, the way his cock jerks against his stomach—it’s intoxicating.

I’d planned to push him onto the bed and ride his face until I got what my body’s been screaming for since watching him lick that chocolate off his fingers, but kneeling in front of him, eye-level with his cock, something else takes over.

I want to taste him.

I wrap my fingers around the base, giving him a slow, deliberate squeeze before sliding my hand up to the tip and back down again. A strangled groan rumbles through him, his thighs flexing beneath my touch.

His restraint is already slipping.

Good.

I lean in, licking up his length, teasing the tip with my tongue before dragging back down.

“Fuck, Parker?—”

“You can hold my hair,” I say, stroking him lazily. “But you have to stay still. The moment you move, it’s over. Got it?”

I tighten my grip slightly, just enough to make him twitch.

Hudson exhales sharply, fingers flexing at his sides before finally threading into my hair. His touch is careful. Hesitant. Like he’s afraid of pushing too far.

“Fuck, you don’t play fair, Silver.” His voice is thick with need, and it makes something low in my stomach tighten.

I raise an eyebrow, waiting.

He swallows hard. “I won’t move. I’m yours to do with what you like. Use me, Silver. Take what you want until there’s nothing left. It’s yours—all of me, it’s all yours.”

A thrill shoots through me.

I lean in, brushing my lips over his tip before taking him into my mouth. Hudson shudders, a deep groan escaping him as I hollow my cheeks, taking more of him in, relishing the way he struggles to stay still.

I work him over slowly, dragging my tongue along the underside, sucking gently at the tip before sinking down again. He holds himself back—barely—his thighs tense, his grip in my hair tight but careful.

Good boy.

“Parker, fuck—yes, god—” His words dissolve into groans.

I slide a hand up his thigh, teasing, but the second my fingers graze his balls, Hudson yelps—actually fucking yelps—and jerks back, his cock slipping from my mouth with a wet pop.

“Stop. Please stop.”

I blink up at him, startled. He looks wild—chest heaving, sweat beading along his temple.

Confusion flickers through me. Did he change his mind? Does he not want this? Did I push too far?

“No, wait.” He grabs my arms, pulling me up. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I just—” He pulls me close, his scent warm, rich with arousal. “I don’t want to come in your mouth. And I really don’t want to come before you do.”

A surprised chuckle escapes me. I drag my hands under his shirt over his chest, tracing the dips and ridges, feeling the way his muscles tighten beneath my touch, then pull it over his head so I can admire the view. His cock is still hard, slick with my saliva, twitching against my stomach.

“Okay,” I murmur, smirking. “Then lay down so I can ride your cock.”

I push him back onto the bed, but instead of letting me straddle him, he grabs my hips and pulls me higher.

“Sit on my face, Silver,” he growls, voice dark and sinful. “Let me taste you while you ride my tongue and drown me in your juices.”

Holy fuck.

A shiver runs through me. My pussy clenches in anticipation.

“Let me lick all your worries away,” he continues, his lips ghosting over my inner thigh. “Let me pull orgasm after orgasm out of you. Just hold onto the bed frame and let me work.”

“Orgasms? Plural?”

Hudson smirks, his grip tightening on my ass as he pulls me down toward his waiting mouth.

“The first one’s for you,” he murmurs. “You’re flustered. You need to let go.” His lips brush my core, featherlight. “The second’s for my ego. To prove I can do it.”

“And the third?” I rasp, already breathless.

His eyes darken. “The third is a big fuck you to your demon.”

I gasp, “Hudson!” but he silences any argument.

His mouth is on me.

His grip tightens as his lips seize my clit, and I jolt at the contact. Instantly, Hudson shifts tactics, kissing me there softly, letting the flat of his tongue glide over the sensitive bundle of nerves instead. At the same time, his hands spread me wider, exposing me fully to his touch.

Cool air brushes my skin. I shiver, my hips beginning to move on their own, rolling against his mouth.

I grip the bed frame, knuckles white, while Hudson steadies me, controlling the rhythm. His tongue is patient, reverent. The grit of his stubble against my inner thighs sends a different kind of thrill through me.

Then one of his fingers slides inside—deep, slow, teasing.

He’s not just touching me. He’s worshiping me.

My breath shudders, my muscles relaxing into the pleasure he builds so carefully.

And then—he drags his slick finger down, tracing lower, toward the back.

A surprised gasp rips through me. I freeze.

“Shh,” he murmurs, voice molten. “Let me take care of you. I promise, it’ll feel good.”

I glance down, heart pounding.

And fuck.

Hudson’s face is glistening with my slick, his tongue flicking out between every word. His blue eyes burn with something fierce and reverent and hungry.

Before I can say anything, before I can say I trust him, he presses his finger inside—just slightly.

A shiver rolls through me. It doesn’t hurt. It’s… different . The friction is delicious, unexpected in a way that makes my toes curl. He knows. His smirk says everything.

He strokes deeper, his tongue returning to my clit.

“Hudson…” My voice is barely a whisper.

He grazes his teeth—lightly—over the bundle of nerves, and I shatter.

The orgasm hits like a wrecking ball. My entire body locks up, trembling, thighs squeezing around his head as I scream his name.

When I slump against him, panting and weak, he doesn’t stop.

He rolls me onto my back in one smooth motion and looks up at me, face soaked in cum, lips red, eyes wild.

“You’ve ruined me, Silver,” he groans. “Now I’m out here trying to match your energy like I stand a fucking chance.”

I laugh—breathless—until he licks a slow, deliberate line from my ass to my clit, and the breath catches in my throat.

“What are you?—”

“That was O number one,” he murmurs against my skin, his lips brushing my inner thigh. “Ready for number two?”

I open my mouth to answer, but he doesn’t give me the chance.

Two fingers slide deep inside me, curling just right. The pressure builds instantly.

His other finger is nestled in my ass, both working together in perfect, devastating tandem. The stretch, the slick, the friction—it coils hot and tight in my gut like a fuse on the edge of ignition.

“Come on, Silver,” he whispers, voice thick with desire. “Let me see you fall apart again. You’re dripping down my chin. Look at how filthy I am for you. I’m going to smell like your pussy for days.”

Holy fuck.

Before I can catch my breath, before I’ve even come down from the first high, his lips wrap around my clit again, and I break—harder this time.

The second orgasm crashes into me like a rogue wave, stealing every thought, every breath. My thighs clamp around his head, my body jerking as I moan his name, drowning in sensation. He groans into me, drinking it in like I’m the only thing keeping him alive.

When I finally manage to open my eyes, he lifts his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean—slowly, eyes locked on mine.

Oh. My. God.

I stare at him, drinking in every perfect inch—his soaked face, his trembling muscles, the cock still thick and rock-hard between his legs.

That won’t do.

“O number two,” he says smugly. “Definitely a win for my ego.”

I don’t give him a chance to gloat.

I flip us, straddling him in one smooth motion, and sink down on his cock in a slow, possessive glide that has his head tipping back with a growl.

“Fuck, Silver,” he gasps, his hands flying to my hips.

He lets me lead. Lets me take. And I do.

I ride him hard and slow and deep, dragging every sound I can out of him. Our bodies move in rhythm, slick and hungry, every thrust thick with everything we’ve been holding back for days.

When I wrap my hand around his throat, his hips buck. His eyes blow wide. His cock twitches inside me, and I feel the pulse of his restraint slipping.

His mouth falls open in a ragged moan. “I’m so fucking close.”

I lean in, lips at his ear. “Good.”

I roll my hips harder, faster. My climax builds like fire under my skin, and when it hits—when I clamp down around him, when my nails dig into his chest and I cry out his name—Hudson follows.

His release crashes through him with a raw, guttural sound, his whole body jerking beneath mine as he spills deep inside me.

We collapse together, breathless.

I’m sprawled across his chest, both of us slick with sweat, our skin sticking in the best possible way.

“Told you,” I murmur against his throat. “I’d take what I needed.”

His arms wrap around me, holding me close, one hand dragging slow circles up and down my back.

“I hope you know,” he says, voice low and rough, “I’d let you take it again. And again. As many times as you want.”

I don’t answer. Just nuzzle into him, letting the steady rise and fall of his chest soothe the wild beating of my heart.

After a moment, he shifts us, tucking the blankets over our naked bodies, his hand still lazily stroking my spine. I’m curled on his chest, one of his thighs between mine, his body wrapped around me like a shield. His breath is warm against my shoulder, and his fingers trace slow circles down my spine. He holds me like he means it. Like I’m not a burden to bear.

And I let myself be held.