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“Mine. You are fucking mine.”
His gruff words—his claiming me—hit me in the chest like an arrow.
“Yours… Oh God, Ian.” My body is tingling, muscles starting to tighten as my orgasm builds. It hits me so hard, my entire body jerks, my legs cramping and the cry of pleasure rattling the walls. His cock slides in and out of me, my bed rocking until he too shouts his pleasure. His warmth fills me as he pumps his hips.
When the orgasm subsides, I lay limp as a noodle under him.
I’m not able to move even if I want to.
Which I don’t.
Chapter 6
Ian
A month has passed since this project in West Jefferson started, and so far, plans for the additions on Tori’s old farm house are going well.
The home, originally built in the late 1800’s, has a good backbone. The load bearing walls are in great shape; we have plenty to work with.
The downstairs is outfitted with a large kitchen, a breakfast nook, walk-in pantry, and laundry room that had previously been updated, and the new additions added about twenty years ago. The rooms original to the old house are a formal dining and living area, a front parlor room, a back sitting room, and a small washing closet. Which is a fancy way of saying there is a toilet and sink in a closet.
The main focus as you walk into the home is the foyer that showcases the grand staircase. All wood, hand-carved by masters long ago. Upstairs is divided into a master suite—again, that was updated. A spacious bathroom and walk-in closet were added at the same time as the kitchen reno was done.
The rest of upstairs houses a converted library, with wall-to-wall shelving and windows that overlook the backyard and pastures. There are three rather large bedrooms and a full bath. It’s home to a bathtub and a walk-in shower. There is also a linen closet and the door to the attic off the last landing before you go up to the master suite.
When we say it’s a grand ole house, that’s why. Spacious, open, and the architecture itself is magnificent. This is why I’ve put in so much work to make sure we match the aesthetic with the addition.
Of course, like any other building project, there have been setbacks, unpredictable problems, and the occasional WTF moments, but all in all we are close to being on schedule.
Leaning over the long table set up in the covered porch, I review the plans. The outer walls for the porch extension, the new downstairs and upstairs rooms are done. The windows are being delivered in three days, weather permitting. The flooring purchased matches what is currently throughout the house. It’s sitting in the formal living room, acclimating to the temps, waiting to be installed once it’s time.
The light fixtures, that took an act of God to find, are being unloaded from the trucks now. Sconces, a chandelier for the main room, and then the lighting fixtures for the add-ons are all brushed metal; the brassy sheen will match the rest of the home seamlessly.
The wiring has been run for the downstairs rooms; they are working on the upstairs now. Plumbing will be tweaked as they work around it. The large, handicap-accessible bathroom in the new downstairs ensuite is being worked to match the upstairs. Tile is going in the shower, and the tub is a walk-in as well. The installers will be back once we are ready for it to be put in place. It has a built-in seat so that whoever uses it can enjoy the comfort and ease of a bath without the worry of slipping and falling in the tub.
Some of the guys are working in the shower in the downstairs suite. We’re making good progress there. The others are framing out the new closet. The layout of the bathroom and closet have to be changed due to the current plumbing setup. It’s a relatively easy change to make, and no one lost their minds when the changes came up.
No homeowner wants to hear about delays—Tori though, is a champ. She takes the news with a smile.
“How’s it coming along?”
Speak of the devil herself.
I look up and watch as she comes in holding a tray of steaming mugs.
“Good, everything is right on track.”
“Great. I brought in some coffee for everyone. That wind is beyond biting this morning.”
I lean in to press a soft kiss to her lips when she steps closer to me and sets the tray down. “You spoil us all.”
“I’m glad. I have bread baking and muffins cooling as well.” She grins.
I chuckle then steal another kiss.
“Did I hear something about hot drinks?” Mack asks, coming in the patio’s side door, his arms full of boxes. I rush to help him.
“You should have made two trips.” I shake my head.
