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“I wanna make you come,” he mutters as he starts to move faster, his breathing choppy as he hovers above me.
“Make me come, Matt. Touch me,” I whisper, urging him on, loving the appreciative growl he gives in response to my provoking words.
He touches my clit, circles it with his thumb before he presses hard. I concentrate on the way he moves inside of me, how thick he feels, the friction that’s created between us like we’re trying to spark a fire. I feel like we really could almost light a blaze, the attraction is so strong.
Murmuring encouragement, he circles my clit harder as he increases his pace. I move with him, desperate to find that delicious feeling again. Matt is the only one who can make me feel so good, so right. So completely, utterly myself.
I was never comfortable in my own skin; not until I met Matt.
“Don’t stop,” I say, my breath hitching when he touches me in a particular way, in a particular spot. “Just like that,” I encourage, whimpering with every stroke of his fingers, every stroke of his tongue. “Oh God, Matt. Please...”
“Come for me, Bryn,” he commands as if he knows just how close I am. I explode, my entire body wracking with shudders as the orgasm takes me completely over. I shudder and shake in his arms lifting away from the desk, so I can grip him and hold him close. He lets me but never slows his pace, pushing again and again until he’s the one who’s shouting and coming inside of me so hard, I swear at one point I’m afraid he’s going to collapse on top of me, and I won’t be able to move ever again.
“Well,” he says a few minutes later. “That was... good.”
I start to laugh. “More than good.”
“We’re good for each other,” he says softly, his fingers threading through my already mussed-up hair. “Don’t you think?”
“I don’t think, I know.” I smile and snuggle close to him, loving how cherished he makes me feel, how much he loves me. “I love you, Matt. I’m glad you crossed the line and decided to pursue me.”
Now it’s his turn to laugh. “I love you too. And I’m real fucking glad I decided to cross that line. I owe a lot of my pursuit to Ivy and Marina.”
“I know. The makeover and all that.” Those girls worked their hardest to put the two of us together and for that, I’ll be forever grateful to them.
“Not just that. They talked you up before the makeover,” he says, shocking me. “Once they nabbed their men, they decided I needed someone too. Which means I’m the one who won that damn bet, and I intend to finally collect.”
Oh God, the bet. How could I forget? I assume Archer and Gage wish Matt would forget about it. “When are you going to collect? And how?”
“I already put in a call to both of those jackasses and made my request.” When I remain quiet, he sighs. “I asked them to donate the amount to their favorite charity and be done with it.”
“Awww.” I kiss him, loving how thoughtful he is. Someday I am definitely going to marry this man. “You’re the best, you know that?”
“No, you are. Seriously.” He rests his hand against my cheek, forcing me to stare into his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Bryn. You helped me turn my life around. Helped me find love. I owe it all to you.”
“Matt.” My voice trembles and we kiss, his lips lingering on mine. “I love you.” I can’t say it enough.
“I love you too. You’re mine, Bryn. You’re stuck with me.” He grins. “I hope you don’t mind.”
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Chapter 8
Archer
One month since Jackson’s birth
I walk into the living room to find my wife curled up on the couch, little Jackson nestled in her arms as she feeds him. When I realize she hasn’t noticed me yet, I stop short and watch them for a quiet moment.
She looks good, still carrying a little extra weight, but I think those curves are sexy. Her hair is loose, falling far past her shoulders, and she’s wearing an oversized pale blue T-shirt and black leggings. The shirt is yanked up over her chest and Jackson’s dark head is pressed close to her breast. She’s staring down at him, cooing unintelligible sounds as she strokes his hair and face.
Love overwhelms me and sticks in my throat, making it impossible for me to speak. I’m damn lucky to have these two in my life. I don’t know what I did to earn this.
But I’m not questioning it. I’m eternally thankful for my Ivy and my Jackson.
“Why, Daddy... are you spying on us?” Ivy asks, her quiet voice interrupting my thoughts.
Chuckling, I settle on the couch beside her. “What if I am?”
