Page 125 of Secrets on Ice

“Mom just said something, and I’ve had too much champagne, and I don’t know, I’m just being a girl,” I tell him.

He crosses the room and stops in front of me. “Need a hug?” he asks as he opens his arms. I step into his embrace, and he hugs me tightly.

“Mom asked me for grandkids tonight.”

Sully stiffens. “Shouldn’t she be asking Emmett? He literally just got engaged.”

“That’s what I said. But it kind of got me thinking, and I probably shouldn’t be thinking in this state, and then I got sad because what happens if I never have a family? It would be another thing Kevin took away from me.” Sully hugs me tighter.

“If you think you have run out of time, I’ll have a baby with you.”

I still and lift my head to look up at him. He's already looking down at me, and the whole room changes. “Sully …”

“I mean it,” he says.

I shake my head. “You don't mean it.”

“Em.” He doesn't let go of me. “Look at me. If it came down to it and you wanted a kid and there was nobody else, you'd have to fight me off. That's not a joke.”

I don't know what to say to that. He's looking at me like it's the simplest thing in the world. Like he's offering to help me move a couch.

“You'd have a baby with me,” I say. “Just like that.”

He huffs a breath. “Yeah, just like that.”

Why is that hot? Something goes through my chest that I don't have a name for, and I'm too full of champagne and too raw from my mother to do anything sensible with it. So, I kiss him. Again.

He makes a sound against my mouth like it's been killing him, and then his hands are on my face, and he's kissing me back so hard I stop being able to think.

“Party,” he says against my lips.

“I know.”

“Hundred people upstairs.” He breaths heavily.

“Yep.”

“Em …”

“Don't stop,” I tell him. And he doesn't.

He backs me across the living room until my legs hit the arm of the sofa and shoves my dress up around my hips. I get his belt open and my hand around him, and he groans into my neck.

“Turn around.” His voice is low and rough. There’s no room for argument and I do as I am told and turn. Sully doesn’t ease into it, he shoves my dress up over my hips, yanks my underwear to the side, and pushes into me in one hard, deep stroke that steals the air from my lungs. I bite down on my own arm to keep from crying out. He doesn’t give me time to adjust. He fucks me hard and fast, one hand splayed across my stomach holding me tight against him, the other reaching around to find my clit. His fingers work me in tight, ruthless circles while he pounds into me from behind, every thrust deep and punishing.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growls against my ear, voice filthy. “Taking my cock like this when we’re supposed to be somewhere else. You’re soaked. Dripping down my balls. Such a dirty fucking girl for me.”

I moan into my arm, pushing back to meet every thrust. The angle is perfect, he hits that spot inside me over and over, and the wet sound of him fucking me fills the quiet night air.

“You like this?” he demands, hand tightening on my stomach. “Like getting fucked over a couch like a little slut? Come on my cock, Em. Right fucking now.”

My legs give out as the orgasm rips through me, his name broken on my lips. He holds me up, fucking me through it, and four strokes later he follows with a low, guttural groan, face pressed into my shoulder as he comes deep inside me.

We stay like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, his cock still pulsing inside me. Eventually, he pulls out, fixes my dress, and turns me around, his eyes are dark, satisfied, and a little wild.

Neither of us says a word for the moment. We both know this is getting harder to stop.

“You go up, I have to um … freshen up.”