Without a Hitch(78)

“Yes, Lochlan. I want you.”

“Bare?” I snarl.

“Yes.”

I clench the side of the hammock, and with one forceful tug, I impale her.

“Holy,” she moans, unable to finish the sentence as I step forward moving the hammock with me.

“You fit, Tilly.” My cock. My life. My heart. “You fit.” I know I’m not making any sense as I leverage the motion of the hammock to rock her into me over and over again. She makes me believe in things I’ve sworn off when we’re connected like this. She’s dangerous and addicting and so fucking mine.

Reaching down, I pluck her nipple and pinch it. When she groans in pleasure, I tweak it again harder. Folding my body over hers, I release her nipple just in time to take it into my mouth. I lick and suck the pebbled peak, ratcheting her pleasure as high as I can take her.

“Lochlan.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Lochlan,” she moans again, but this time she twines her fingers into my hair and gives it a hearty tug. Lifting my head, I’m forced to release her nipple. Something in her gaze gives me pause, and I freeze.

My breathing is heavy as I try to keep her in focus, but my body goes rogue when I’m so deep in her.

“I love how you feel inside of me.”

Pride fills my chest. A growl worthy of a black bear erupts from me, and I slowly begin to move in her again. She bounces and sways, but I slow down our movements. This needs to last. Pulling out, I grit my teeth. I fucking love the drag of her walls, and when she uses her internal muscles to squeeze the head of my cock, I ram back into her.

“You were made for me,” I tell her.

“Yes. Yes. God, Lochlan.”

Using my hips to steady the hammock, I drop my thumb to her clit and rub in slow, torturous circles to match the pace I’m setting. Her hips buck against the contact, and she digs her heels into the fabric bed. As my thumb goes to work, she grinds her pussy up and down, taking control and riding me. I stand and watch as this goddess pushes me over every wall I’ve constructed.

“Made. For. Me,” I roar, and she picks up the pace. “Say it.”

“Made for you,” she hisses.

“Mine.” I come in a riot of curses and damn near black out. My cock twitches violently, bringing me back to the present, and my fingertips flick Tilly’s clit at an ungodly pace. Back and forth, repeatedly, until her legs shake and her belly quivers.

“Mine,” I growl again. “Mine. Come for me, Tilly. Fucking come.” My hand is going numb as I strum her like a banjo, and when her eyes go wide, I know I have her. I watch in awe as her pussy spasms around me, milking the last of my orgasm. I’m never going to get enough of this woman, and that thought terrifies the living hell out of me.

I don’t trust myself to speak, so I silently lean down and lift her to my chest. Cradling her to my body, I kick off the baby trackies still around my ankles and carry her into the bedroom. The feelings of rightness, of being whole, that I have when she’s close like this—those are thoughts for another day. Today, I’ll embrace what I have and hope like hell I come out on the other side in one piece.

“HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?” Tilly asks as I step off the patio with two bottles of water in my hand.

My smile is more than indulgent. She lounges in yet another hammock, but this one is sturdier and doesn’t swing like Tarzan when she moves. At my request, the Rosewood brought it in when they set up the outdoor movie screen.

We still have the one on the patio, and I smile every time I walk by it. To think, only a week ago, I hated the contraption. Things are changing. With me. With us. With my beliefs, though I don’t say so out loud.

Yesterday she got stuck in a couple of meetings, and before we knew it, the day had gotten away from us. While she worked, I put plans in motion for the rest of her vacation goals. I hate to admit how happy it made me to do these things for her. But nothing could have prepared me for the sheer gratitude she shows every single time.

“I haven’t,” I answer sleepily, and she frowns.

“Are you tired?”

My shoulders relax as I move closer. It’s happening more often. Or perhaps I’m just noticing it now, but when she’s within reach, my body responds in a multitude of ways.

We’re still in bathing suits from our earlier swim. Her tanned and toned body is on full display in a sparkling gold two-piece that’s decidedly for my eyes only. My hand falls to her ankle when I’m close enough to reach out. The compulsion to touch her is stronger than my willpower, and I take comfort in the contact.

“A little,” I admit. “I didn’t realize you’d be a fish.” I like to tease her. Her reactions to me are magical.

Bloody fucket magical.

“Hey!” she scoffs with mock outrage. “You cannot expect me to be twenty feet from the ocean and not want to live out all my Little Mermaid fantasies.”

“Darling, you can live out any fantasy you want as long as I get to watch.” A yawn sneaks past my defenses. “What are we watching next?” Her movie marathon turned out to be exactly what it sounded like. So far, we’ve watched three chick flicks where she mouthed ninety percent of the words and cried at every happy ending.

I’ve spent more time watching her than the bloody screen.

“Your turn to choose. What do you usually watch?”