I want you here. I want you in my home, my bed, my life,” he murmured, the smooth out of his voice, it was low and so rough with sex and emotion, it was abrasive, scoring through me.“Baby –”“I want your clothes in my closet. I wanna hear your voice in my house when you’re talkin’ on the phone. I want you sittin’ beside me when we’re watchin’ TV. I want shit you like in my fridge. I want “your razors in my shower. I want my roof over your head. Your car in my garage. I want to give you what I should have been giving you for sixteen years. As good as you deserve. A showplace. A place where I can make you happy.”God. He was killing me.“Creed, let me –”He didn’t let me finish. He pressed on, driving in, our bodies jolting with his thrusts, his voice harsh in my ear.“Give me that, Sylvie. Give me that and, swear to God, I’ll give you everything.”“I –”His head came up, his cock drove deep and stayed planted and his eyes burned into mine.“All I’ll ask. All I’ll ever ask. You give me that and you got a lifetime of nothin’ but take.