DELIVER(97)

Her back arched, and she bit her lips to trap a moan. “Josh,” she whispered.

The box springs creaked as he lifted his body and flipped her to her belly. Kneeling between her legs, his fingers skimmed up her inner thighs, dipped through her wetness, and entered her.

Pleasure shivered through her. He thrust his hand, his fingers dragging along her inner walls, his panting so incredibly erotic. Her hands ached to touch him. Her body burned to be stroked harder. When his fingers slid out, she held her breath, expecting his cock. Instead, a soaked fingertip pressed against the pucker of her ass. She looked over her shoulder but couldn’t see him through the dark.

“Van has taken you here?” His whisper was hoarse.

“Yeah.” She closed her eyes, knowing his jealousy would be rising to the surface and stirring his instinct to claim her.

“Are you healed?”

“Yes.” It had been a week since Traquero had hurt her. A couple times, during moments like this one, she’d watched Josh spread her cheeks and stare at her anus while f*cking her. She knew what he wanted. She’d never willingly given her ass to anyone, but he wasn’t just anyone. “It’s yours.”

His breath stuttered, and his finger pushed past the ring of muscle, intensifying the throb in her *. He choked. “Holy hell, Liv. You’re so tight. And hot.” He moved his finger in and out, and his thigh trembled against hers. “I want this, badly.”

“Take it, Josh. Do you have lube?”

“No.” He half-groaned, half-laughed, circling his finger. His other hand held her waist in a death grip.

The sensations from his invasion vibrated across her skin, electrifying every cell in her body. “Use spit,” she panted.

The hand on her waist vanished. She heard him spit and pictured him stroking himself, lubricating his cock as he fingered her ass. Fuck, she was going to come quick. She dropped her head to the pillow.

His finger slipped away, and something much larger nudged her opening. She pushed against him. He swept a warm palm up and down her spine. His hand lingered on her tail bone, pressing down, and he worked his cock in slowly, cautiously, despite his quickening exhales.

They gasped in unison as his hips bumped her ass, his length buried fully inside her. He bent over her back and cupped her breasts. “Not gonna last long.”

“Me neither.” She rotated her hips. “Now move.”

He moved. Oh God, did he move. She gripped the edge of the mattress and smothered her yelps in the pillow. He pistoned his hips, filling her over and over with an overwhelming tempo of speed and power. The bed squeaked. She didn’t care. Her body was on fire, her desire for him tunneling through her and awakening all her pleasure points.

His tongue dragged up her spine, and his fingers slipped into her *. She exploded in a spasm of quivering limbs and stammering breaths, her inner walls convulsing around his fingers. His strokes slowed, his mouth open and panting against her shoulder. He came with his face buried in her neck and his arms locked around her, clutching her back to his chest.

She sighed, smiling, as he rolled them to their sides. “You just f*cked my ass with your parents on the other side of the wall.”

“At least, they didn’t come in.” He pulled out, rubbed something soft and cottony between her legs and cleaned himself. “There’s no lock on the door.”

Her gaze flew to the vicinity of the door. Was he trying to get busted? “Did you just clean your dick with your t-shirt?”

“Yep.” He tossed it through the dark room, and it landed with a thud in the corner. “I’ll make sure it gets in the hamper tomorrow.”

“Let me guess. Your mom does your laundry?”

He curled against her back, enfolding her in his arms. “She’s been washing my cum filled t-shirts for years. Go to sleep.”

She lay awake with her cheeks stretched in a silly grin and a flutter in her chest. Sleepless minutes passed, and her thoughts drifted to Van. He’d been a bastard to her for seven years. If he hadn’t abducted her, Mom might’ve still been alive. But there would’ve been no Livana. She would’ve never met Josh.

For the first time since Van entered her life, she thought of him with a tiredness that was fulfilling rather than draining.

Josh’s breaths evened out. She carefully untangled his arms, kissed his temple, inhaling the scent of his skin, and crept back to the couch.

The next three days rolled into a repetitive cycle. She used the Carter’s phone every morning to inquire about a visitation with Livana. She helped Josh haul bales and clean farm equipment. In the evenings, they ran together, just the two of them, the dirt road beneath their sneakers, and acres of freedom.

And after his parents retired each night, he carried her to his bedroom and showed her how much he loved her. When he fell asleep, she crept back to the couch. But his irritation with the sleeping arrangements was mounting, if his narrow-eyed glower at his parents every morning was anything to go by.

When she approached him about his attitude toward his parents, he’d said, “They’re more concerned about what happened to the farm while I was gone than what happened to me during that time. You’d think they’d be more invested in what I need and less concerned about church gossip and farm chores.”

While his parents pretended his time in captivity never happened, the news stations begged for details. They called from all over the country, buzzing the phone so often the Carters turned off the ringer. A number of times, Josh had to run off reporters who were rude enough to show up at the house. He wanted to avoid the press for as long as possible, which meant he was also avoiding school, football, and church. All his attention was on the farm and catching up on the tasks his parents had fallen behind on.