Page 25 of Parentmoon

“Our position suggests yes.”

He huffs out a laugh and presses forward, filling me up once more. Slow, satisfying, so good.

“Darlin’, while we’re here, you belong to me.” His tone softens while the declaration states he’ll take no argument.

“Like you licked it first?” My breath suddenly hitches as he pulls back and rushes forward, emphasizing his point and stealing the sarcasm in my voice.

He brushes back my hair again, pausing a second. “Did that too. Making my claim.”

“Claim?” I choke as he drags to the edge, until only his tip remains inside me.

“No other men. Not while we’re here. Not while we’re together.”

Was this about last night and his ridiculous accusation about Artie and Ira? He couldn’t be jealous. And were we really having this conversation now? In this position? “I don’t share, so same goes for you.”

The corner of his mouth crooks. “I’m loyal to a fault.”

I could ask what he means but he surges forward, taking my breath again as he hits me in a spot I’ve never been tapped. I gasp, puzzled and pleased by the electrifying sensation.

“Do that again,” I whisper-beg.

Dallas smirks, giving me that dimple with a knowing grin. Back and forth he moves, leading my body to follow his until we’re in tandem. I drop my heels to the mattress and tighten my thighs to meet each of his thrusts. My hands squeeze his ass, needing him deeper inside me. His palms cup my shoulders, tugging at me, taking me harder. Soon, we’re a symphony of grunts and moans. The sound of bodies coming together fills the loft. The scent of sex filters around us.

A beast is unleashed within Dallas. His hips rock and our bodies slap. Wetness causes us to glide, frantic and frustrated, seeking that end result. He clasps the back of my neck, holding on as he pummels into me. His other hand moves lower, seeking my clit.

“Wanna feel you . . .” he strains. “Come around me.”

I’ve never come from penetration and I’m concentrating too much on him to give in.

“I had my turn.” Still, I clutch him, lifting my legs to circle over his back and clawing at his shoulder blades to keep him close to me.

“Too close.” He stills. “Next time.” My channel clenches and Dallas lets out a low groan as he pulses inside me. His grip on the back of my neck tightens, as if he wants to hold me in place, anchor himself to me. Then he’s collapsing over me, rolling us to our sides, and holding me pressed to his chest.

“Fuck, I haven’t acted like a randy teen in ages.” His chuckle is staggered by deep inhales as he tugs me tighter to him. The statement is an apology for the short effort.

“Once in a lifetime,” he mutters to my hairline as his lips linger there and he strokes a finger down my spine.

Once in a lifetime.

I shiver against him, forcing back any questions, letting my body settle first. I wouldn’t have taken Dallas for a cuddler, but he holds onto me like he doesn’t want to let go, and just for a moment, I believe he doesn’t.

+ + +

“Stay here,” Dallas says to me as he slips from bed, gathers his clothes, and walks naked through the loft.

As the bathroom is downstairs, he disappears. His rustling around echoes up to me and then he returns with a wet washcloth and a second mug of coffee in hand.

“The first cup got cold, so I brought you a fresh one.” The corners of his mouth curl, sheepish, almost shy, since we both know why that original mug cooled.

He wears the same shorts he had on when I woke minus the T-shirt. Holding out the washcloth, I take it from him first and discretely take care of myself. He hands me the mug next and crawls over me. As he falls to his back beside me on the bed, I sip the coffee then set the mug on the nightstand. Easing back below the sheets, being naked beneath them feels decadent. I rest on my side, facing him.

“Jo is short for Josephine, right?” Dallas turns his head to face me.

“Yes.” I softly smile.

“Anyone ever call you JoJo?”

Laughing, I answer. “No. Anyone ever call you Dally?”