Making Her Mine (Sweet Somethings Book 3)

by Rory Reynolds

  “You like driving me crazy with this hot little cunt, don’t you?” he growls as he enters me in one hard thrust.

  “Yes! Yes, Carson. More. Fuck me.”

  If I thought he let loose of his control before, I was wrong. This is him letting go. His hips slap against my ass as he fucks me with wild abandon. His hand cracks down on my ass over and over, causing me to cry out and beg him for more. I never, ever thought I would like it like this. When I imagined losing my virginity, it was always sweet and slow. Making gentle love with some nice guy, not this possessive out of control moment of perfection.

  I realize now that I would never be satisfied with some nice guy. I need this. I need his fierceness. He spanks me again, and my orgasm comes out of nowhere, blinding me. I’m not even coherent when he flips me back to my back and enters me again. This time he’s making love exactly how I pictured. His thrusts are slow and measured as he looks deep into my eyes. The emotion wells up inside me as we both chase our releases.

  The orgasm rolls through me, no less incredible than the ones he forced from my body. This one builds on itself until I feel it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Lights explode behind my eyes, making me blind to the pleasure. Then he buries himself deep, and I feel his cock jerk inside me as he fills me with his hot release.

  8

  Carson

  Ana feels like heaven wrapped tight around my cock. I should hold back and give her the sweet and slow she deserves, but I can’t. When she begs me to let go, the temptation is too much to deny. I fuck her like I’ve always wanted to, and she loves it. She turns into a wildcat, thrusting back into me and begging for more as I spank her.

  I flip her back over, looking deep into her eyes as I chase down my own release. I rub her clit with my thumb urging her on, wanting one more from her before I fill her full of me. I shouldn’t. I should pull out, but I can’t. I won’t. She’s mine, and I’m going to claim her. My orgasm is blinding in its power. I’ve never come so hard in my life, and I know it’s all Ana. She’s fucking perfect.

  I collapse onto the bed, completely replete, and pull her into me until she’s laying across my chest. She lets out a little sigh, and I gently caress her back until she closes her eyes and falls into a deep sleep. I follow her shortly after.

  I wake up to an empty bed. Worry suffuses me down to my bones. Was last night too much? I instantly feel regret for being so rough with her. She was a fucking virgin for fucks sake. What was I thinking? I quickly tug on a pair of jeans, not even bothering to button them as I rush out of my room. I won’t let her regret the best night of my life. I refuse. Last night was perfection, and I have to know she feels the same way.

  I’m ready to rip through the door and straight to her house when I see her in my kitchen wearing nothing but my t-shirt. I stop short, taking in the scene. She’s drinking from my favorite coffee cup and stirring something on the stove.

  “Ana,” I breathe her name in relief. She turns and gives me a brilliant smile, instantly assuaging my fears. She doesn’t regret last night. Her smile tells me everything, she’s happy.

  I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on her shoulder. “What are you making?”

  Biscuits and gravy… sausage… scrambled eyes.

  My eyes widen at the feast she’s making us. “Where did you get all of this? I know I didn’t have any of this in the fridge.”

  She laughs. “No, I decided making orange juice, and cheese slices wasn’t exactly the breakfast a girl needs after such an… enthusiastic night.”

  She’s not wrong. I reached for her in the night at least three times. I’ll never get enough of her. She was just as needy, though. Every time she took me into her body with enthusiasm. Always just as hungry for me.

  “I went to my house and got some supplies.”

  I growl, looking at her in my t-shirt and nothing else. I spin her around. “You went like this?”

  She gives me a sassy smirk. “Yep.”

  “Anyone could’ve seen this sexy body in just this shirt?”

  She shrugs. “It’s early, no one is around to see.”

  I tangle my hand in her hair, pulling her head back. “Never again. I won’t share you with anyone. Not even Mr. Beatie.”

  She giggles. “I love when you get all growly alpha man. Would you maybe pound on your chest and give me a Tarzan call?”

  I give her another growl instead, feeling much more like a predator than a hero in some children’s movie. I crush my lips to hers in a ferocious kiss. One that tells her she’s mine and that no one else can have a single piece of her.

  When breakfast is done, I pull her down into my lap instead of letting her sit in her own chair. She giggles and relaxes into me. “Brute.”

  I nip her shoulder. “I can show you brute.”

  “Later, a girl needs food every so often.”

  We turn to our food, and it’s delicious. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

  “I taught myself,” she shrugs. “Grandma Ruth can’t boil water. It was either learn to cook or starve.”

  “This is amazing. Why aren’t you cooking at the diner?” I ask completely flabbergasted as to why Amos wouldn’t take advantage of her talent. Being a trained chef, there’s no way he wouldn’t see the potential Ana has.

  “I’m not nearly good enough for that. Amos is the chef; I just cook for sustenance.”

  I turn her to face me. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re amazing. You shouldn’t just be waiting tables; you should be cooking.”

  “I like waitressing.”

  She takes another bite, effectively ending the conversation, but I’m not in the least bit ready to give up. I try again to tell her she should be cooking at the diner.

  “Are you embarrassed to be seeing a waitress?”

  “What? No. I just don’t want you to waste your talents.” I instantly regret my words when she freezes. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I think you’re wasting your time. I just think others should enjoy something you obviously love doing.”

  She kisses me softly, letting me know she forgives me, but then tells me again she likes waitressing, and the subject is officially closed off.

  9

  Ana

  I don’t know how I could’ve been so wrong about Carson. I see now that even though he’s gruff and surly, it comes from a place of protectiveness with a little bit—okay a lot—of possessiveness. Now that I see him for what he really is, I realize what a big heart he has. I have no idea how I ever confused his protective nature with meanness. Yeah, he told me I shouldn’t be wearing certain clothes, but it wasn’t because he didn’t like me in them. It was because he liked it too much and saw other men liking it too much too.

  It’s been a week since that first ride on his bike, and since then, he’s taken me out three more times. I absolutely love the freedom of riding on the back of his motorcycle, my arms wrapped around him. I never in a million years would’ve imagined me doing something so reckless, but I love the thrill. I even talked him into wearing a helmet, telling him that I’m not the only precious thing on his bike. Maybe I’m less sweet innocent Ana, and more daredevil.

  Even my friends have noticed a difference. Telling me they are happy to see me finally coming out of my shell and loving seeing me so happy. They’ve all forgiven Carson for being mean to me, especially Lani and Margo, because they both understand the whole growl-growl-mine-mine thing that Carson has going. Prue took a little more convincing but seeing me so happy has her onboard.

  “I love staying here with you,” I tell Carson one morning as I’m making coffee. “But I feel guilty letting my dream house sit there empty.”

  When I get off work that day, all of my things have made it back to my place, along with a bag of Carson’s stuff. I quickly unpack the bag, loving seeing his stuff alongside mine. The man is absolutely perfect. Everything is moving crazy fast, but it also feels right. So right that I’m falling in love with my overprotecti
ve, growly brute of a man.

  “So… tell us… how are things with you and Carson?” Lani asks with excitement dancing in her eyes.

  I feel the smile spreading on my face before I can stop it. “Good… really good.”

  She sighs with happiness. “I’m so happy for you!”

  Lani purses her lips then turns her attention to Prue.

  “No. Nope. Not going to happen,” she says.

  “You’re the last one. It’s in the air… you’re going to fall in looove,” she teases.

  Prue laughs at that. “I’m so not the falling in love type. I’m perfectly happy with my business and Lolli.”

  Margo rolls her eyes. “Cujo and work are not a substitution for love.”

  “I don’t need a man to be happy. Besides, I get all the love I need right here with my best friends. Even more than I want sometimes… like now,” she says, scowling at all of us. I raise my hands up, letting her know that I want no part of this argument.

  Prue passes the bottle of wine my way, and I set it on the table in front of us, not even taking the small sip I would typically have. I don’t tell them that the reason is that Carson and I have been screwing like rabbits and haven’t been using any protection. He knows I’m not on birth control, and even though it’s downright reckless, I don’t care.

  Actually, I do care. I want a baby. I’ve always wanted a family, and even though we’ve only been together a short time, I know that he’d be a great dad. Even if we don’t work out. His own dad and mom didn’t stay together, and they managed to co-parent him into the man he is. I have no doubt we could do the same thing.

  I’m not embarrassed or ashamed, but I’m also not ready to share it with my friends. This is something that I want to keep all for myself.

  Our conversation moves on to other things. Margo tells us all about the new cupcake she came up with and that she’s excited that her creativity didn’t stop with her sadness cupcakes she made when she thought things were over with Amos. In fact, she’s made more new flavors of cookies, cupcakes, muffins, and other confections since they got married. I love seeing how happy she is; love looks good on her.

  Once our “book club” is over, I head home. When I pull into my driveway, my excitement builds when I see how dark Carson’s house is and the warm glow of light in my own house. I absolutely love coming home to him. He’s told me he feels the same. We’ve moved from enemies to practically living together in the blink of an eye. Still, I’m falling in with both eyes open, knowing that Carson will catch me.

  It’s both scary and exhilarating.

  10

  Carson

  I’m sitting in my regular booth watching Ana flit about the busy diner, serving her customers with a bright smile. She’s wearing that skirt that drives me crazy. Except for today, she’s worn it special just for me. Every time she bends over, her pert little ass is pointed right at me, driving me fucking insane.

  “Hey, handsome,” she says, bending ever so slightly so that I can see right down her shirt to the white lace cupping her breasts. “Can I get you anything?”

  I growl lowly. “Nothing on the menu. I have something else I’m starving for.”

  Ana’s eyes dilate, and her cheeks flush with desire. She wants me as bad as I want her. This little game of hers is a double-edged sword. She drives me crazy, and the possessive looks I shoot her way make her pussy hot and needy. Later, when we get home, she’ll attack me like a wildcat in heat.

  She licks her lips. “I think I might have just the thing you’re hungry for…”

  I grip the back of her neck and pull her in for a toe-curling kiss, not giving a single fuck about the full diner. She pulls away breathless, with kiss-swollen lips. “Soon,” I rumble.

  She gives me an imperceptible nod, then returns to her work as if our little interlude never happened.

  “Why are you so nervous, darlin’?” I ask, grabbing her up in a hug. “I’ve met your grandmother dozens of times.”

  “But never as my…” she waves her hands around almost frantically, “whatever we are.”

  I smirk at her loss of words. “I’m your boyfriend… lover… obsessive asshole… take your pick.”

  She throws her head back and laughs. “Obsessive asshole sounds about right.”

  I give her a pained look, pretending to be hurt. “Now who’s mean?”

  “Aww… poor baby. Why don’t we stick with boyfriend?”

  I kiss her lightly on the tip of her nose. “I like the sound of that, for now.”

  She gives me a confused look but doesn’t ask what I mean. I have a feeling she already knows exactly what I’m talking about. We’ve been on the same page since the day I cleared up the whole hate each other thing. She’s perfect for me, and I think she feels the same about me. Yeah, we are opposites in a lot of ways. She’s sweet where I’m surly, but we’re also alike in that we are both hungry for each other all the time.

  Ana might have been a virgin when I took her the first time, but in a short time, she’s become a passionate, wanton woman who knows exactly what she likes. She likes it rough, and with a small bite of pain some days, others she wants it sweet and slow. I’m more than happy to oblige both her hungers.

  “It’ll be okay. Ruth loves me.”

  “That was before you were practically living with her granddaughter. Not to mention the whole defiling me thing. She probably thinks I should save myself for marriage. We never talked about it because it’s never been a thing before. Now here we are screwing like bunnies,” she flails about some more. “Oh God, what will she think about us if I’m pregnant?!”

  I yank her to me, stopping her flailing. “She’ll be happy for us and become the best great-grandma there ever was.”

  “Pregnant and unmarried?! No way, she will totally castrate you before she whoops me all the way to Georgia.”

  “Calm down, baby. It’s all going to be okay.” I run my hand down over her stomach, hoping that right now, her belly is already growing our baby. Yeah, it’s crazy and fast, and we might be a little insane, but like I said, we’re on the same page. We both want this.

  “Yeah, calm,” she breathes, “I can do calm…”

  By the time we get to Ruth’s house, Ana is calm. At least outwardly. I can still sense her inner freak out. I keep my fingers threaded through hers as we make our way up to her front door, lending her my calm strength. She knocks on the door and is greeted by an enthusiastic Ruth. She pulls us both inside, giving us each hugs.

  “Come in, come in… don’t even bother knocking, little bird. This will always be your home as much as it is mine.”

  Ana gives her a happy smile, all of her reservations seeming to vanish into the ether. Dinner goes off without a hitch, just like I told her it would. She relaxes more and more as the evening grows later.

  Ruth asks about a million questions about the motorcycle—some of them, including what kind of safety procedures I have taken with her precious granddaughter on the back of my ‘death machine.’ I tell her that I would never do anything to harm Ana. She’s way too important to me.

  Ana goes to the kitchen to get dessert, and Ruth gives me an assessing look. “I’m never wrong about people, you know.”

  I raise my brow and give her a questioning look.

  “I knew you didn’t really hate my granddaughter, though she was convinced.”

  “How could anyone hate Ana? She’s perfection.”

  “Do you know why I bought the house from you for her?”

  I shake my head. At the time, I wasn’t about to ask any questions as soon as I knew who my new neighbor would be. It was worth every penny in lost rent. It was worth every hour of work to get the house to match precisely what Ana dreamed her home would look like.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re a fool who couldn’t make my granddaughter love you like I knew she wanted to.”

  “So you helped me?” I ask.

  “Yep. Just like you wanted, I got my granddaughter
in arm’s reach for you to do what you should’ve done months ago.”

  There’s a gasp behind me, and I turn and see a very upset Ana standing just in the doorway. “You… you guys set me up? You took advantage of me?” She levels me with devastated eyes.

  “I-” she starts but shakes her head, not finishing her sentence. She brings over the dessert, sets it in front of me, and then walks straight out of the door and leaves.

  “Well, that didn’t go over well,” Ruth says.

  I stand up from the chair so fast that it crashes to the floor. “How did you think she would take the news that you basically orchestrated this whole thing? She probably thinks we conspired against her.”

  Ruth rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. She’ll understand I did what I thought was best and look at you two. I’ve never seen her so happy. You’re good for her.”

  I scoff. “Of course I am. I fucking love her. And now she’s pissed and hurt because you forced my hand, and now, she’s questioning my motives.”

  11

  Ana

  I can’t believe that they could do this to me. My own grandmother knew how much I hated Carson, and yet she conspired against me with him to trick me into forgiving him for all of his meanness. Was any of this even real?

  Was he just using me?

  My subconscious prickles telling me that’s not right, but I’m too mad and hurt to listen to reason. I know Carson has been incredible these last weeks. He’s made me happier than I’ve ever been. He made my dream house even though he didn’t have to. Grandma Ruth wouldn’t purposely hurt me—I know this as a fact too, but it doesn’t change anything. Not while I’m hurting and angry.