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This is Love, Baby(17)

By:K. Webster


His words cause a heat to burn through me, all the way from my heart to my core. I squirm against him and thread my fingers into his dark hair. “Fuck me then, servant,” I taunt, pulling his head down to mine.

He must be turned on by my dirty talking because he lets out an animalistic grunt and forcefully enters me. My body is wet and ready, as it always is with him, and I moan against his lips.

“One,” he mutters aloud as he bucks against me. The delicious tightening in my lower body intensifies with each powerful thrust into me. He’s counting my breaths and I’m counting stars.

“Two.”

All of them.

“Three.”

Glittering behind my closed eyelids as I greedily grab for the orgasm his body will no doubt give me. His lips steal over mine and he kisses me hard enough to steal the breath right from my lungs.

I love all the parts of War.

But when he makes love to me, he owns not only my body but my mind as well. We become one and I relish in the way we connect in blissful harmony. His hand slides to my breast and he squeezes reverently. Our lips don’t disconnect as he fucks me right over the edge.

“Oh, God!”

My words seem to have a ripple effect because his cock feels as if it grows inside me before he bursts his release into me, marking me as his.

And it’s true.

I’ll never belong to another.

War owns me and I own him.

Together we are peace.

“My sweet Baylee,” he croons, his lips now peppering kisses all over my face. “You’re so goddamned perfect.”

I smile and tenderly stroke his cheek with my thumb. “And so are you.”

His body crushes me and I revel in the way he consumes me. Despite his afflictions, he’s strong and powerful in his own unique way. Warren McPherson is a force to be reckoned with. He’s a dark storm, raging from his inner demons. I have an appetite for his destruction. My soul craves to be completely overtaken by him.

Lucky for me, though, War would never hurt me. He may be chaos, brewing and festering on the inside, but with me, he handles me with surety and gentleness. My War protects what belongs to him as if it is precious.

I am precious to him.

“How many breaths?” I question as he pulls out of my body, his hot cum running from me and warming a trail between my butt cheeks as it leaves.

He grunts as he climbs off the bed in search of a towel. “I was at three breaths before time stopped.”

The bathroom light flicks on and soon I can hear the water running in the shower. He returns with the towel, the light silhouetting his muscular frame. His hands make quick efficient work with the towel as he cleans me before guiding me out of the bed.

“Time stopped for you too?”

He stops before opening the shower curtain and regards me with a crooked smile. Dear God, this man has the most handsome face. The silver scar along one side from his accident only serves to intensify his rugged appearance.

“Time stopped for me the moment you sat down inside my car that night. With you, I could finally take a break from the maddening chaos ticking by, second by second. With you, I could breathe. With you, I could be happy.”

I stand on my toes and press a kiss to his cheek. “Our own little world.”

“Don’t ever leave our world, Bay. Stay with me forever.”

Tears well in my eyes, but for once, they aren’t from worrying over my parents or Gabe or anything else for that matter. They’re happy tears. “I wouldn’t ever dream of leaving.”

He drags me into the shower and I let out a moan as the scalding spray washes away the evidence of our lovemaking.

“Baylee…”

The voice is wrong.

It doesn’t belong to my War.

I look around but he’s no longer in the shower with me, the steam from the water growing thicker and thicker, obstructing my view.

Our world has dissipated and darkness cloaks around me, blinding me.

“War…” I call out with a sob. “War!”




“Baylee!”

I blink open my eyes and stare into two dark green orbs. They’re not my War’s icy navy blue ones. The warmth that had only moments ago surrounded me is replaced by a chill I can feel all the way to my bones.

The voice again. Raspy and ragged. Choked and angry. And still not belonging to the man from my dreams or the person I’m wrapped around.

“Brandon?”

I close my eyes to rid myself of the confusing dream and reopen them, hoping it will be War instead. But, my gaze fixates on Brandon’s intense glare.

“Who is War?”

The blood turns to ice in my veins and I shiver. Brandon hugs me tighter to him. We’re sprawled out on the couch with my back to the cushions and him facing me as we lay on our sides. One of his big hands is resting on my ribcage, his thumb running back and forth along the underside of my swollen breast. His knee is between my thighs, resting against my pussy. The hardness of his erection presses against me alerting me to the fact he’s enjoying our contact.