The last person to promise me paradise was Holder, and he gave me hell. But with Abel, this would be an easy promise to make. Every moment with this man has been magic, pure bliss, and now it’s time to spend a moment or two with him on me, in me—in drawn-out hours of aching passion that we repeat on a loop.
“Then that’s what it will be.” Abel rolls on top of me, and I take in his weight before he rises onto his elbows. “I’m going to teach you what it’s like to be with a real man. Those boys that ripped your heart out for sport, who fed you lies, and made you believe them—you’ll never look back. This is my promise to you.”
Abel studies me a moment, his gaze serious with something darker layered just beneath. His lips find mine, slow and heated. And no matter how many kisses we’ve shared over the last month, each one has a way of bringing that spark of excitement that comes with a first kiss. The surreal nature of the moment never grows old. Abel moves around in my mouth as if this kiss were the most important task he’s ever undertaken. My hands clasp onto his bare sides, migrating slowly as I spread my fingers over his steely chest, outlining the ridges of his muscles, hard as cut marble. The scent of his spiced cologne intoxicates me, right along with the growing intensity of his deep-throated kisses. His hands find my thighs as he inches up my dress, and my fingers are quick to fumble with his belt. In the past, this is where the moment grows frenetic—the kicking off of shoes, the spastic dance to evict our clothing, but with Abel you’d think eternity was at our command. It’s a passive endeavor that sets a spotlight on the careful removal of each article of clothing—his boxers, my panties being the grand finale. Then it’s done, nothing but skin on heated skin and I can feel him there, pressing his happiest to see me member against my thigh. But Abel and I never take our eyes off one another. There’s something hypnotic about this moment, something very raw and real as if we’re both being far too cerebral about this. My cheeks heat dangerously hot as he continues to press into me with his gaze. This slow burn is racing through me like a fireball, scorching my heart, my soul, the inside of my thighs scalding as lava.
Abel cups my cheeks with his hands, feeding me kisses, deliberate and aching, eliciting a groan to rip from my throat. He pulls back, doting my mouth with a chaste peck as he examines me this way, his lids hanging heavy, drunk off his affection for me.
“Tell me now if you want me to stop.” His voice reverberates through his chest to mine like a snare drum. “This is it, do or die.”
“Do and die.” I take a bite from his lower lip and give it a little tug. “I like it both ways. First, you do your best to please me”—I purr into his ear as my arms leash around his neck—“then you slay me with everything you’ve got.”
A dark laugh rumbles from him as his mouth falls back to mine. Abel blesses me with his kisses, that fierce lashing tongue that races over my body leaving no stone unturned. I can’t help but watch as his dark head of hair travels the length of my body, stopping to pay homage at all the right places. His fingers trace down my torso, his hands kneading me as he works his way lower still. Abel is a master of seduction, of promises, of ecstasy. Abel buries a series of wet kisses in that most tender part of me, and my entire body seizes with pleasure. Yes, Abel is master of ecstasy, and that’s exactly where he takes me in record time.
He pulls a condom from his wallet and dons it with the finesse of a seasoned pro, stroking himself just once as if admiring the work of art he truly is. And he should. My God, Abel is a work of sublime brilliance that I will forever treasure having witnessed.
I bite down a giggle as he hovers over me, that determined look on his face, the viper staring down its prey, and I am more than happy to be had. His mouth opens as if he were about to say something, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say those ever-elusive words to me—I love you. A part of me demands to say it first. I just want to hear those heart-shaped words explode in this room. I haven’t heard it in so long, not like this, not with those eyes filled with fiery lust beaming down on me, backlit with the light of a powder blue moon. Abel is strong, capable, intelligent, kind—everything anyone would want in a man. Everything I have ever wanted. An image of a future with Abel spools out before me without my permission. Abel proposing, waiting for me at the end of a petal strewn aisle, my arms filled with a swaddling babe, a cabin on the lake, white picket fence, tricycles and hula hoops on the front lawn, a beautiful chaos blossoming around us as he looks at me just like this. I want it all with Abel. So much more than he’s willing to give me. I always want far more than people are capable of gifting me. It’s the curse of losing my parents at such a young age. The wanting never ends. My outstretched arms might be filled for a time, but they are always left empty and aching at the end of the day.
Say I love you, my mind demands. It screams at me over and over in a demonic choir.
“It’s time to kill me,” I whisper instead. It was fate after all that brought us together. That would be enough for now. It might have to be enough forever.
Abel lunges over me with a hard kiss, primal tension mixed with an indiscernible ache, and I fight the urge to cry. I want this man. I want all of him. I want so much more than he’s willing to give me.
His wet mouth runs a line of fire over to my ear. “You are so damn beautiful.” He takes a playful bite out of my earlobe, and my body bucks with pleasure. I needed words, and Abel gave me what he could. I’m grateful, grateful to have that incessant need fulfilled. Abel enters me slowly, my body stretching with a careful burn to accommodate this gorgeous man, and the tears flow steady without my permission. Abel rocks over me, steady and determined, before giving my hair a quick tug, forcing me to look up at him, his pace driving and pounding, making good on every promise his wayward looks have ever given me. Those bedroom eyes are sealed shut, his jaw popping, muscles clenched as he gives the last few powerful thrusts. Abel digs his fingers into my shoulders and lets out a thunderous roar. Our bodies clench tight as if gifting an arduous goodbye. This was it, the end to our sweet, sweet music. My chest bucks as I try to control the tears, wiping my face down before he can get a look at the mess I’ve made.
“Hey.” His finger pulls my chin toward him, his brows quickly twisting with concern. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” A dull laugh rumbles through me, turning my tears,me,into the perfect dichotomy. “You were perfect.” I reach up and kiss him, pulling him to me as his heated arms encapsulate me in their granite-like fortress.
His lips brush over my cheeks, his steady breathing warming the icy tracks left in the wake of my tears. “I’m so sorry, Zoey.” His voice breaks as his arms tighten their grip over me. Abel is holding onto me as if I were lying at the razor’s edge of a cliff, ready to roll right off into a fiery abyss. He wouldn’t be that far off if he thought that. The truth is, I rolled off a long time ago. Anybody with eyes could see that. Surely, he knows what damaged goods he was messing with. And if he didn’t, these drenched cheeks have exposed all of my secrets, or at least the tip of the psychotic iceberg. My God, why did I ever agree to do this sober?
Abel dots my lips with his before pulling back. The moon glows over him, exposing the idea of a naughty smile on his lips, those unrepentant blue eyes showing off all their cerulean glory.
“I would give you my arms, my legs, my heart, my soul, my car, and my money to see you smile right about now.”
A laugh bucks through me as I perk back to life, and the relief on his face is palpable.
“I guess you owe me quite a bit,” I say, brushing his hair off his forehead. “You are a saint with your words but a sinner of the highest caliber with that body of yours. Are you sure you’re not wanted in all fifty states for crimes against humanity? It’s perfectly criminal not to have you performing nightly with any and every woman. You, my friend, are a national treasure.”
Now it’s his turn to laugh. Abel’s entire body shakes as his chest trembles. “I wish I could say that’s exactly why I’m on the run.” His lungs fill with his next breath, taking me for a ride right along with them, and I give his chest a playful scratch.
“I like this,” I whisper. “I like the feel of your body against mine. It feels right.” My lips turn down hard as the urge to bawl presses over me once again, but I fight it. “Did it feel right for you?” I meant for it to sound playful, seductive, and instead, the words bleed from my lips pathetic, weak, and childlike. A part of me wants to pull the pillow up over my head and shout for him to go, but my eyes can’t seem to break his magnetic stare.
Abel dips a kiss to the nape of my neck, his lids hooded once again, his lips curling at the tips. “It felt insanely right. It felt electric, perfect.” His demeanor shifts, and gone is that playful gleam in his eyes. “It felt like home. I can’t think of a better way to describe it.”
“Home,” I parrot the word back to him, trying it out on my lips to see how it feels, and it indeed feels perfect. “I want to be your home,” I say it lower than a whisper, my chin dipping as I look up at him from my lashes. “You’re my home.” I give a shrug and he presses a kiss to my shoulder, and just like that, his lips are moving over me once again, roaming, exploring, finding my mouth in a heated appreciation of this new adventure we’ve embarked on. Abel says I feel like home. Home. The one place I have never known in another human being before. Abel feels like home and so much more. I’ve stumbled off the edge of that proverbial cliff. I’m free-falling, spinning through the sky with a laugh brewing in my chest, a smile I could never shut down on my lips, and all the while gravity is pulling me to earth, to the open waiting arms of Abel McCarthy, my knight in shining armor. He was the last person I would have expected to catch me. The last person I would have wanted to do just that.
I may have started out cold as ice to the man who holds me sure in his arms, but every last inch of me is on fire to have him, to hold onto him forever.
But if I’ve learned anything from my past, I know that forever never lasts. Abel and I are destined to wind up hurt or dead. And if my track record speaks for itself, then the answer is both.
