Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 79749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I want her taste coating my tongue.
I want her whimpers and moans in my ears for eternity.
"I'm nervous," she confesses.
"About what?" I ask, thinking that it gives me a little more time. Honestly, I'm a little nervous too, but this time, there's no risk of interruption.
I don't have to worry that what we're about to do will get me killed. There is no one creeping around the house trying to catch us in a compromising position. I can slide inside of her and not have to leave for hours if that's what we want.
"What does this mean?"
If there were ever a question capable of stopping me in my tracks, it would be that one.
"This doesn't change anything," I tell her honestly, and hate the way my words draw an instant tear to the corner of her eye.
I brush it away with my thumb and cup her cheek.
"This doesn't fix anything," I whisper, needing her to hear the truth. But even as the words leave my lips, my heart beats harder as if gaining strength despite the huge hole she left in it years ago.
"Okay," she responds, but I can hear the heartbreak in her tone.
I can't fix that. I can't be responsible for how she feels. I can't let her tangle me up and keep me from seeing what's best for everyone involved, but then she leans forward, her lips brushing over mine for the first time since that day, and I'm blind to everything around me but her.
"Peach," I whisper, angling my head forward when she pulls back an inch.
I feel tormented by her kiss, distressed that it will be all that I get from her. She can hit the brakes at any second, leaving me a desperate man begging for just a little more. When she shifts her body, lining it up with mine, I know that she's going to give me so much more than one single brush of her mouth.
My fingers on her hip curl, gripping the t-shirt she's wearing, as I lean in closer and press my mouth to hers.
She grants me entrance when I sweep my tongue over hers, and the groan that rumbles from deep inside of her shoots cold chills all over my skin.
As much as my body is urging me to roll her over, lift her ass, and climb inside of her, I take my time, unsure if this is the only time we'll get this opportunity. I want to savor it. I want it to last forever.
She rolls her body against mine, the pressure of her clothed body against my erection not exactly the kind of attention I need right now. As much as I want to take things slow, there are some parts we can rush past to get to the really good stuff.
"Off," I grunt, reaching for the hem of the shirt she's wearing and pulling it from her body.
"Wait, I—"
Her hands rush to cover her stomach, but I see the marks left behind from her pregnancy.
"I'm not the same," she says, her eyes looking anywhere else but directly at me.
"This," I say, tracing one of the stretch marks. "This is evidence that our son grew safely inside of you, Peach. There's no shame in that."
I know without asking that Damien had a problem with her body after Eli's birth. Why else would she be so self-conscious about it?
I fucking hate him even more for it, but at the same time, if he was disgusted, maybe he stayed away from her.
I cup her breast and lean forward again to press my mouth to hers, rolling into her and pressing her to her back on the mattress.
Sweeping my hand down, I slip it under the borrowed boxer briefs and cup her ass, urging her leg up on my hip so I can press harder right against the center of her.
Even with two layers of fabric separating us, I can feel the heat of her. It makes me insane with the need to shove inside of her.
I pull back, levering myself up on my knees, and look down at her. Jesus, she's fucking perfect. With just the sight of her, I know I won't be the same after tonight.
"Lift," I urge as I grip the waistband of the boxers.
She obeys, angling her hips up a few inches so I can pull the boxers free from her body.
"Jesus," I pant, staring down at the center of her.
She's glistening. Two kisses and she's ready for me. I sweep my thumb up the seam of her, having to roll my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from moaning with need at how slick she is.
She whimpers, her hips rolling and lifting in need of more pressure.
"Be strong," I whisper. "You know I'll take care of you."
Aspen gave me so many firsts, and despite feeling like a crook who stole those things from her all those years ago under false pretenses, I still greedily took all that she offered. I'm no less desperate to have them all again.