Page 129 of Buckin' Around

“And you got all that from washing my hair?”

Why are we always arguing?

Maybe I should look into that. I mean, if Spence can go to therapy... Maybe I should consider it.

“Among other moments,” he says, eyes locked on my own.

Fine.

He wants me to come to him.

To show him how much I want this?—

I drop to my knees on the end of the bed.

He’s pointing down.

What the?

“Crawl, Riles. Show me how much you’re mine.”

“I—”

“Now, O’Malley,” he says in a guttural tone so low it sinks straight into my bones.

Right.

Crawl.

But this is Spence.

The man who has housed me. Fed me. Made me family when I had none to count on.

The man who, up until now, has been golden-retriever obsessive. If he needs this...

I drop to all fours and dip my spine a little so my ass perks up. My breasts swing, heavy and almost painful at the hardened peaks.

I do want this.

I do want him.

I just have no idea how we could ever make this work after my twelve months are up.

Pushing the thought down, I crawl. Slowly.

He’s pumping his cock with a string of heady groans by the time I work my way between his legs and straddle his lap.

“Hey,” I breathe around the stone in my throat.

“Hey, baby,” he pants.

A soft, satisfied smile stretches my lips. He can get as bossy as he wants, but he still needs this more than his ego can tamp back.

“You good, Spence? Feeling wanted now?”

“F-fu—” His head lowers, lips closing over my nipple.

I whimper, the last breath crashing out.