Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“That makes a lot of sense, since both are true.” Relief washes over his face and I have to shake my head. “I know I pushed you away, but it wasn’t about you.”
He puts a finger to my lips. “I was wrong to ask anything of you when I hadn’t made it clear I was offering more.”
I find his mouth with mine and kiss him while I relish the rhythm of his heart against my hand.
His lips are gentle as they explore—parting and closing, nipping and sucking—but then I thread my fingers through his hair and tug him closer and he growls into my mouth. “If I had the magic to stop time, I would use it to stay here with you. Let the rest of the world carry on without us.” He bends to slide his hands to the back of my thighs, then lifts me off the floor. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. He lowers himself into the chair, keeping me on his lap.
“I don’t think I’d argue with that,” I admit. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here.”
“Good.” He grips my hips tightly, like he’s trying to pull me even closer. I can feel the hard length of him through his soft sleep pants.
I like this angle, looking down at him, our bodies flush. It’s intentional, I realize. He’s giving me complete control.
I draw back enough to watch his face and pull the silky slip off over my head.
His throat bobs, and his gaze drops, roaming over me.
“I feel beautiful when you look at me like that.”
His eyes flick back to my face. “You should always feel beautiful.”
I shrug. “It never mattered to me before. And maybe it shouldn’t now. It’s such a superficial thing, beauty.” I drop my gaze to his chest and trail my fingers across his collarbone. “But I think I need to know you see me. Not despite the scars and not because of them, but just that when you look at me, you see all of me.”
“I do,” he says, voice rough, “and it’s the greatest honor of my life.” With a hand slid roughly behind my neck, he pulls my mouth down to his and kisses me fully, like he’s trying to pour everything he feels into one kiss, like he’s trying to convince me with his lips and tongue alone that I am all he sees.
The fire crackles beside us, warming the room and the bare skin he’s exploring with the tentative brush of fingertips up my back and down my side. One palm presses to my ribs and drags up to cup my breast.
He breaks the kiss and meets my eyes. “This is okay?” I love the rough edge to his voice, the one that lets me know how much he wants this, wants me, while also reassuring me that if I stopped things now, he would absolutely follow my lead.
“If it’s okay with you.” I sit back, giving his hands more room to move and his eyes more room to explore.
His breath catches. “Nowhere else I want to be.”
He drags an open mouth down my neck and across my clavicle, tongue warm against my rapidly heating skin. When he picks me up again, he takes me to the bed and lays me down on top of the covers.
I reach for him and he takes my hand in his, squeezing as he brings it to his mouth for a quick kiss. His eyes stay on me. He shucks off his sleep pants and climbs onto the bed, lying beside me, propped up on one elbow and scrutinizing my face.
I smile. “Don’t look so worried. I’m okay.”
He shakes his head. “I want you to be better than okay. I want you to be good—great, amazing.” His gaze slides down my body again and his breath hitches. “I want to make sure you’re feeling even a fraction of how I am right now.”
I can’t keep my smile from stretching across my face. “I’m good, great, amazing.”
“Hmm. I’m not convinced yet.” He trails fingers between my breasts and over my stomach.
I arch into his touch, and when his hand finds its way between my legs, I drag in a shaky breath.
“You’ve thought about this.” It isn’t a question. He knows I have, but he still wants to hear it. “Since the last time.”
“Yes.” My hips lift—seeking, pleading—as he teases me. “You?”
“I hate that I can’t remember, but I think about it anyway. All the time.”
I melt, tomorrow and all the what-ifs falling away in the face of sensations that start in one spot and seem to radiate out to my whole body.
When I can’t stand any distance between us anymore, I loop an arm around his neck and tug him toward me, guiding him to position his body over mine. The weight of his hips settles between my thighs, and the tenderness in his eyes turns back to fire. I sigh happily.