🔥 The Anniversary 🔥

An Exclusive Bonus Scene from Burn for Me

Thank You for Reading! 💕

You made it to the bonus content—which means you’ve experienced Ethan and Chloe’s journey from strangers to forever. Thank you for giving their story a chance.

This exclusive scene is our gift to dedicated readers like you. It’s too spicy for Amazon, so you’ll only find it here.

✨ BONUS SCENE: The Anniversary ✨

This scene takes place six months after the epilogue.

⚠️ Content Warning: Extremely explicit sexual content including extended foreplay, multiple orgasms, praise kink, size kink, breeding talk, light bondage, and pregnant sex. Intended for mature readers only.

CHLOE

Six months.

Six months since Oliver Ethan Cole Jr. had entered the world screaming, red-faced, and absolutely furious about being evicted from his comfortable home.

Six months of sleepless nights, endless diapers, and the particular chaos that came with having a newborn and a toddler under the same roof.

Six months since Ethan had touched her properly.

Not that he hadn’t tried. God, he’d tried. But every time they got close—every time his hands started to wander and her breath started to quicken—someone screamed. Usually Oliver. Sometimes Ellie. Once, memorably, both at the same time.

Tonight was different.

Tonight, Ruth had taken both kids to her house for a “grandma sleepover.” Tonight, the cabin was silent for the first time in what felt like years. Tonight, Chloe had shaved her legs, put on actual lingerie, and was currently standing in the bedroom doorway watching her husband’s jaw hit the floor.

“Holy shit,” Ethan breathed.

She smiled. “Surprise.”

The lingerie was new—a deep red set she’d ordered online and hidden in her closet for three weeks. The bra was sheer, barely containing her breasts, which were still fuller from nursing. The panties were scraps of lace connected by strings. Impractical. Ridiculous.

Ethan looked like he wanted to eat her alive.

“Come here,” he said, his voice dropping into that low register that still made her knees weak.

“Make me.”

His eyes flashed. Challenge accepted.

He crossed the room in three strides, and then his hands were on her—one gripping her hip, the other fisting in her hair, tilting her head back for a kiss that was more claiming than greeting.

She’d missed this. God, she’d missed this. The heat of him, the weight of him, the way he kissed like he was trying to consume her whole.

“Do you have any idea,” he growled against her mouth, “what these past six months have been like?”

“I have some idea. I was there.”

“Watching you walk around the house in those little shorts. Bending over to pick up toys. Feeding our son with these—” His hands found her breasts, squeezed through the sheer fabric. “—and not being able to touch you properly.”

“You could have touched me.”

“I wanted to do more than touch.” He backed her toward the bed, step by step. “I wanted to spread you out and take my time. Make you scream. Make you forget your own name.”

Her back hit the mattress.

“We have all night,” she said breathlessly. “No interruptions.”

“All night.” He loomed over her, arms braced on either side of her head, his body caging her in. “I’m going to need it.”

ETHAN

She was a fucking vision.

Red lace against pale skin. Dark hair spread across white sheets. Her chest heaving, her nipples visible through the sheer fabric, already hard and straining.

His wife. The mother of his children. The woman who’d walked into his life and refused to leave.

He was going to worship every inch of her.

“Arms up,” he commanded.

Her hands went above her head without hesitation. He reached into the nightstand, pulled out the silk ties he’d been saving for exactly this occasion.

“Color?” he asked.

“Green. Very, very green.”

He secured her wrists to the headboard—loose enough that she could escape if she needed to, tight enough that she’d have to work for it. Then he sat back and looked at her.

“God,” he breathed. “You’re perfect.”

“I have stretch marks.”

“Perfect,” he repeated. He traced one of the silvery lines on her hip, the evidence of her body making room for their son. “Every single mark. Perfect.”

She flushed. Even after everything, even after two years together, the praise still affected her. Still made her squirm.

He loved that about her.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said, settling between her spread thighs. “I’m going to take my time. I’m going to make you come at least three times before I fuck you. And you’re going to lie there and take it like the good girl you are.”

“Three times?” Her voice was already breathy. “That seems ambitious.”

“I have six months to make up for.” He lowered his head, pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. “I plan to be thorough.”

CHLOE

The first orgasm came embarrassingly fast.

He’d barely touched her—just his mouth on her thighs, his fingers tracing the edges of her panties, never quite touching where she needed him. And then he’d hooked his finger under the lace, pulled it aside, and given her one long, slow lick.

That was all it took.

Six months of deprivation had left her wound so tight that the first real contact shattered her completely. She arched off the bed, the silk ties pulling taut, a cry tearing from her throat that would have definitely woken the kids if they’d been home.

“One,” Ethan said against her flesh, sounding unbearably smug. “That was easy.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He spread her wider, settled in like he planned to stay awhile. “Now let’s work on two.”

ETHAN

She was soaked.

He could taste her arousal, feel it coating his fingers as he worked her open. Post-baby, her body had changed—softer in some places, more sensitive in others—and he’d been cataloging every difference, learning her all over again.

She still liked pressure on her clit. Still went crazy when he curled his fingers just so. Still made those desperate little sounds when she was getting close.

But now she was tighter. More responsive. Like her body had missed him as much as his had missed her.

“Ethan—” She was pulling at the ties, her hips rolling against his face. “Please—I can’t—”

“You can.” He added a third finger, stretching her, preparing her for later. “You’re doing so well. Taking everything I give you.”

“It’s too much—”

“It’s not enough.” He sucked her clit into his mouth, pressed hard with his fingers, and felt her detonate.

The second orgasm was longer than the first. Deeper. She clamped down on his fingers so hard it almost hurt, her whole body shaking, tears streaming down her temples.

“Two,” he said, gentling his touch as she came down. “One more.”

“I can’t.” She was gasping, oversensitive. “I need a minute—”

“You don’t need a minute. You need to let go.” He kissed her inner thigh, gave her thirty seconds of rest. Then he lowered his mouth again. “Trust me.”

CHLOE

The third orgasm destroyed her.

By the time it hit, she was barely coherent. Ethan had worked her through two more almost-peaks, backing off each time just before she crested, until she was begging—actually begging, words she didn’t recognize spilling from her mouth.

“Please, please, please—Ethan, I need it—I’ll do anything—please let me come—”

And then he’d finally, mercifully, given her what she needed.

She screamed. Full-throated, neighbors-would-definitely-call-the-cops screaming, if they’d had any neighbors. Her vision went white. Her body convulsed. She might have blacked out for a second—she wasn’t sure.

When she came back to herself, Ethan was hovering over her, his fingers working the ties loose, his expression a mixture of satisfaction and desperate need.

“Good?” he asked.

“I think you killed me.”

“Not yet.” The ties fell away, and he gathered her wrists in his hands, pressing kisses to the faint marks left by the silk. “We’re just getting started.”

ETHAN

He was so hard it hurt.

Watching her fall apart—three times, each one more intense than the last—had nearly broken his control. But he’d waited six months. He could wait a little longer.

“Turn over,” he said.

She moved slowly, boneless from the orgasms, rolling onto her stomach and presenting him with a view that made his cock twitch.

“Like this?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Exactly like this.” He gripped her hips, pulled her up onto her knees. The red lace of her panties was soaked, ruined, but he didn’t remove them. Instead, he simply pulled the fabric aside, exposing her swollen, glistening center.

“We should probably use protection,” she murmured. “Unless you want another baby already.”

“Would that be so bad?”

She laughed. “You’re insane.”

“I’m in love.” He positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through her wetness. “I love you. I love our kids. I love making kids with you.”

“Ethan—”

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop. But if you don’t—” He pressed forward, just the tip. “—I’m going to fill you up. Again and again. Until we make another one.”

The sound she made was inhuman.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “God, please don’t stop—”

He didn’t stop.

CHLOE

He pushed inside, and she felt every inch.

After three orgasms, she was so sensitive that the stretch bordered on overwhelming. But it was a good overwhelming—the kind that made her toes curl and her eyes roll back and her voice break on a moan she couldn’t suppress.

“Fuck,” Ethan groaned, seating himself fully. “I forgot how good you feel.”

“You forgot?”

“Not possible. Just—” He pulled back, thrust in again. “—underestimated.”

He set a rhythm—deep, slow, grinding rather than pounding. Each stroke hit something inside her that sent sparks through her nervous system. The position made everything more intense, the angle perfect for hitting that spot that made her see stars.

“Ethan—” She was already climbing again, impossibly. “I can’t—again—”

“You can.” His hand snaked around her hip, found her clit. “One more. Give me one more.”

“I can’t—”

“You will.” He pressed down, circled, timed it with his thrusts. “Because you’re mine. And I want it.”

She shattered for the fourth time.

And this time, he followed.

ETHAN

He came so hard his vision went dark.

Deep inside her, her body clenching around him, pulling everything from him. He groaned her name—maybe screamed it, he wasn’t sure—as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him.

When it was over, he collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms.

“Holy shit,” she breathed.

“Yeah.”

“Six months was too long.”

“Way too long.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “We need to schedule these nights more often.”

“Ruth will get suspicious.”

“Ruth already knows. She offered.”

Chloe laughed, the sound bright and warm. “Your mother is something else.”

“She likes you more than she likes me.”

“Everyone likes me more than they like you. It’s the grumpy thing.”

He grunted. “I’m not grumpy.”

“You’re extremely grumpy. But you’re also—” She turned in his arms, kissed him softly. “—the best husband. The best father. The best thing that ever happened to me.”

His chest tightened. “Chloe—”

“I know you don’t do feelings,” she continued. “I know this is hard for you. But I need you to know—I wake up every day and I can’t believe this is my life. That I get to have you, and Ellie, and Oliver, and this cabin, and this family. That I get to be safe and loved and happy.”

She was crying. Happy tears, but still tears.

He wiped them away with his thumb.

“You deserve it,” he said roughly. “All of it. You deserve every good thing.”

“So do you.”

“I already have every good thing.” He pulled her closer. “I have you.”

They made love twice more that night.

Once in the shower—slow and slippery, her back against the tile, his hands everywhere.

Once at 3 a.m.—half-asleep, him spooning her from behind, gentle and unhurried, more about connection than climax.

By dawn, they were both exhausted, sated, tangled together in sheets that would definitely need washing.

“We should sleep,” Chloe murmured. “Ruth’s bringing the kids back at noon.”

“Mmm.” He was already drifting, his arm heavy around her waist. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Outside, the sun was rising over the mountains, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Inside, the cabin was warm, peaceful, full of the quiet contentment of two people who’d found their way home.

Chloe closed her eyes.

She’d spent so long running. So long believing she didn’t deserve this—love, safety, happiness.

Now she was done running.

Now she was exactly where she belonged.

In his arms.

In their home.

Forever.

The End

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