She grabs my face again, locking eyes with me as I pound into her. I try to look away, but she only pulls me closer. “Look at me when you come,” she whispers, and I nearly lose it right there.

Her hands grip tighter as I pick up speed, but she doesn’t take her eyes off of mine. In her eyes, there is nothing else. Only us.

Watching her while I fuck her wildly, a new thought starts to dominate my thoughts. This girl is mine. This pussy is mine.

Mine, mine, mine.

With that thought, I finally come, letting out a howl like thunder as I release inside her, claiming her as mine.

All fucking mine.

And my eyes never leave hers for one second.

Chapter 16

I wake up sometime in the middle of the night to find Murph standing at the bedroom window, watching the rain come down outside. I get up and touch his back gently, letting my fingers trail across the tattoos covering his skin.

“Did I wake you?” he whispers.

“No. Can’t sleep?”

“I’m fine,” he answers.

He’s clearly not fine. I don’t know if he’s ever been farther from fine than he is right now, but I’m still hopelessly aching for him to say something, anything. One sentence. Hell, one word.

Then I remember. We don’t talk, we fuck. It hurt, which it shouldn’t. I knew this. I brought it all on myself, but it still sucks to hear.

“It’s okay to not be fine,” I whisper, reaching around to stroke the soft skin of his chest.

“I said I’m fine,” he grunts back.

“You buried someone today and found out Ryder is your brother...all in one day. I get it if you don’t want to talk to me…”

“Savannah.” It’s a warning to stop, but I don’t.

“But you should talk to someone. It’s okay if it’s not me.”

“Why are you pushing this? Please drop it.”

I’m in a mood to shake shit up apparently. What we did last night unravelled me. Not the sex—we do that all the time, but staring into each other’s eyes as we both came so hard I nearly saw stars. It was too fucking intense. Eye contact alone is too much to handle for both of us, but that...that was a stupid thing to do. I asked for it. And now I can’t get him out of my head.

“Sure, I’ll drop it,” I say, walking away. “We don’t talk. We fuck. That’s what you said, right?”

“What did you think this was?” he demands, his voice laced with venom. We’re both clearly exhausted, coming down off an emotionally exhausting day and a lot of drinking. This will end badly, but the band-aid is already peeled back. Might as well rip it off.