He slides over my body, covers me, and nudges my core with his erection.
“Tell me you want me,” he growls.
I don’t hesitate. “I want you,” I pant, my voice shaky, desperate.
He slams into me, swallowing my scream into his mouth as he does.
Pain and pleasure.
My nails scrape against his back.
He’s everywhere—his hands, his mouth, his cock—and I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything butfeel.
He’s relentless, thrusting into me.
“You feel so Goddamn good.” He’s pumping hard, and I feel it all the way to my soul. “Fuck, Sweet Em, you’re perfect.”
When he finally comes, it’s with my name on his lips, and I’m right there with him, shattering into a million pieces.
I know it’s going to be a long time before I feel this good again.
After, in the dark, curled against him under a pile of quilts, I whisper, “I’m terrified.”
“I know.”
“I want this. Us. You.”
“And that’s all that matters,” he says. “And we’ll figure out the rest.”
My fingers find his.
He presses a kiss to my temple.
Outside, the wind shifts. The stars flicker. And I know, deep in my bones, that I’m right where I belong.
Even if it won’t always be easy. Even if we’ll have to work for it, because love like this, as Jonathan put it, is worth the effort.
CHAPTER 32
Ransom
The first week apart is harder than I expected.
I keep waking up and reaching for Em, expecting the scent of her shampoo on the pillow beside me, the warmth of her laugh echoing from another room.
I even catch myself pouring two cups of coffee.
One black.
Onecafé crème.
I stare at the second mug. “You’re losing it, Ransom.”
But I’m not.
I’m in love.
We talk.
