It felt amazing. Becca dug her nails into his shoulders and moaned, arching up against him to meet each thrust with her body. The elusive orgasm was beginning to spiral through her belly again, encouraged by something deep inside her that Hank’s cock rubbed against with every stroke, and she started to whimper with his movements. “Keep going,” she managed. “Oh god, that feels so good. Oh, Hank—”

He growled again, leaning in and biting her neck and then sucking on the skin hard as he jackhammered into her.

She came again, much to her surprise—no, she exploded. Everything was suddenly pleasure and release and a little scream escaped her as her entire body clenched up in the wake of yet another release. That was all it took for Hank to come, too, and his teeth dug into her shoulder as his release shuddered out of him, their bodies quaking at nearly the same time. He continued to move erratically over her, as if unable to stop, and then slowly exhaled deep, clutching her against him. He didn’t collapse on top of her—much to her disappointment—but immediately pulled away and flipped onto his back, panting.

Becca was a cuddler, though. She followed him over and pillowed her head on his shoulder. “Should I leave you alone? Do you need a moment?”

He snorted and tugged her against him. “No. You stay right here.”

She closed her eyes, pleased. She’d clean up in a minute—as he no doubt would, too—but for now she just enjoyed the blissful pleasure of curling up against her lover.

Her lover.

The man she loved.

She’d stress about that later. For now, she closed her eyes and breathed in his scent and thought the world was pretty perfect.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It was still dark outside when Hank woke up. Becca, not surprisingly, was still asleep. He was used to the early mornings and instantly getting up and starting the day, but he lay in bed and watched the woman at his side—his woman—sleep. She was a messy sleeper, he decided, kind of like his daughter. She sprawled in the bed, her long hair everywhere, and her hands were on his side, her leg tossed over his. It was like she had to touch him even as she slept. Not that he minded—he liked that, just like he liked that she slept with her mouth slightly parted and every so often mumbled in her sleep. It was cute.

It was a shame he’d have to wake her up.