Page 74 of Big Dick Energy

I moaned, bucking my hips forward, meeting him thrust for thrust.

He shifted his angle, grinding against me with every deep plunge, the friction on my clit pushing me closer and closer to the edge. His pace was urgent, almost frantic, a raw and primal need that matched my own.

“You're so tight,” he grunted, his voice strained. “So fucking perfect around me.”

His words growled against my ear, dirty and desperate, and sent another wave of heat crashing through me. He was branding me. Not just with his body, but with his voice, his hands, his possession.

I could feel the pleasure building and tightening unbearably deep within me. My cries became higher, more desperate. “Dallas, I'm... I'm gonna…”

“Come for me,” he ordered, his thrusts becoming even more powerful. “Let me feel you.”

It was the command in his voice that pushed me over the edge.

My orgasm ripped through me, violent and shattering. A raw, broken scream tore from my throat as my body convulsed around him, clenching and pulsing in wave after wave of pleasure.

He fucked me through it, his rhythm stuttering as my contractions dragged him toward his own release. With a final, deep, grinding thrust, he buried himself inside me and groaned my name into the crook of my neck, his entire body shuddering as he came apart.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of our harsh breathing and the frantic beating of our hearts, slowly finding their way back to normal.

He collapsed on top of me, his weight a comforting, solid presence. His lips found my shoulder, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against the damp skin.

We lay there silently, tangled together. Outside, the bay glittered on, indifferent to the fact that my entire world had just shifted on its axis. The reality of what we'd done began to seep back in, but for now, I pushed it away. I just breathed him in, memorizing the feel of his skin against mine.

Slowly, he rolled off me, dealing with the condom before pulling me back into his arms, my back to his chest. His hand splayed possessively over my stomach, holding me close.

We didn’t speak. The words that needed to be said seemed too big, too dangerous.

He nuzzled the back of my neck, his breathing beginning to even out. I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion and the aftershocks of pleasure pull me toward sleep, nestled in the arms of my fake husband.

Feeling more real than anything ever had.

Just as I was drifting off, his voice rumbled against my spine. “Still think it's a terrible idea, Davidson?”

I smiled into the darkness. “Ask me again in six months.”

CHAPTER 25

THE MORNING AFTER

DALLAS

Her scent clung to everything—the sheets and my skin.

I woke painfully hard, my body already tuned to a frequency I hadn't known existed before last night.

She was still pressed against me, her back fitted to my chest. My arm lay heavy across her stomach, possessive, even in sleep. And her ass, fuck, her ass was nestled right against my cock like she was trying to kill me slowly.

I buried my nose in the curve of her neck and breathed. My hips rolled forward, a motion I couldn't have stopped if I'd wanted to. I didn't want to.

She made a sound. Soft. Sleep-blurred. It traveled straight down my spine.

My wife.

A month ago, those words together weren’t in my vocabulary, but now the words landed differently.

My hand drifted upward, slow, mapping the terrain of her ribs before settling over her breast. The weight of her filled my palm perfectly. When my thumb grazed her nipple, it tightened instantly.

Fuck.