And with nothing left to say, I kissed him.
I kissed him with the awe of a first crush, the grateful heart of a girl who kept being saved by the most wanted boy in school, and the full, breathtaking love of a woman, who’d just discovered the love of her life loved her back.
Undoing the buttons on his shirt, I ripped it open, needing to feel his skin while he unclasped my bra. His touch was so gentle, such a stark contrast to the man with bloodied knuckles who had stood on the edge of fury only hours ago. A fury born from wanting to protect me.
Another reminder of his love.
The love he’d been aching to give, desperate to share, even when he didn’t know how to articulate that.
I was suddenly overwhelmed with adoration for him. And all I could think about was how fiercely I wanted to protect him in return - from those closest who had used him, drained him, taken from him.
“I want to finish talking about everything you told me tonight,” he confessed as if reading my mind, “but for now, all I want is you.”
I nodded, understanding how he felt because I was right there too and with every pass of his fingers, every press of his mouth on my skin, my body responded, my legs shifting wider and inviting him in with my body. His hands slowed, lingering at my hips, before I stood and slipped my sweats down my legs while he removed his own. His eyes remained on me the entire time, full of something that felt like a promise, and as soon as we were both bare, I climbed back onto him. I straddled his hips, his chestvibrating with a groan as I lined his throbbing cock with my wet, aching centre.
“Wait,” he gritted, his hands gripping my hips as he looked at me with a hunger he could barely hide.
“When I have you tonight,” he hesitated, his voice low as he moved his throbbing cock along my entrance, “It’s going to be with the knowledge that you’re mine.” I was nodding vigorously, desperate for him to be inside me, desperate for him to take me now I knew how he felt.
His eyes dropped to my left hand again, where the ring sparkled between us like a promise.
“And I want you to leave that ring on.” The possession in his voice, the way he was pushing at my entrance with every ounce of self-control he had was too much.
I nodded, pulling him into me, needing him to fill me.
After everything, after the truth spilled from both of our hearts, that ring meant something else. The love between us wasn’t pretend anymore. It was fierce. Raw. Mutual. And it ached. God, how it ached.
The claim he was making, with his body and his words, turned me on more than I could ever admit out loud. He looked at me expectantly, his chest heaving, the question clear in his eyes.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he commanded, and I slowly sank down onto him.
“I’m yours!” I breathed before our moans tangled and echoed as he filled me completely with a kind of passion that felt like fireworks burning across the sky.
He looked at me tenderly before his lips brushed my neck, a slow drag that sent shivers racing down my spine. My breath hitched as his mouth found the hollow beneath my ear, warm and open, and I felt the low hum of a groan vibrate against my skin. Unable to stay still a second longer, I began to rock my hips, grinding against him with a slow, steady rhythm. My fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer, my mouth finding his with a new kind of urgency. One that had been buildingbetween us foryears. He responded instantly, his kiss deepening, devouring, like he couldn’t get enough.
His hands moved up and down my back before snaking around to cup my breasts. His tongue met my own with devastating control, the tension between us coiling tighter with every movement. And then he grabbed my hand, his gaze locking on the ring - his ring - glinting on my finger. I kept moving, unable to stop, every nerve alight with the fullness of him. And soon there was no space left between us. Just the heat, the passion, the weight of everything we’d discovered and everything still to come, crashing into each movement.
“You’re mine, Evy,” he groaned, my name breaking apart on his lips. The sound of that special nickname, rough and possessive, made my insides clench around him. “Tell me you’re mine,” he pleaded, and I couldn’t have refused him if I tried.
“Yes,” I confessed, “I’m yours.” I cried, as my name spilled from his mouth as he surged upward with feral thrusts, sending me soaring over the edge at the same time as he released inside me.
He kissed me deeply, our bodies shaking with the aftermath and rejoicing in knowing that every part of him was claiming every part of me.
CHAPTER 39
Cooper
With hands dusted in flour, Judy smiled at me over the mixing bowls, her knowing eyes narrowed.
“How’s Evangeline?” I asked, saying her name aloud for the first time in five years.
She glanced up at me, a brow raised, and I wanted to flee. To take back even asking. Why did I care? I was busy, I was happy, I was mostly satisfied with my life.
“Was that painful to ask?” she smirked, and I scoffed forcefully.
“Of course not.” I lied.
“She’s good, Coop. But you could ask her yourself. Come over for dinner one of these days. Once every five years isn’t enough,” She teased, and I smiled.
