“Hey,” I say, touching my nose to his.
“Hey,” he responds, kissing me briefly.
I chase his kiss, unable to keep myself from him. The kiss devolves into an attack on his mouth, with Ronan giving as much as he’s getting. Desperate to have his body against mine, I grumble, lifting him from the ground. Without a word, he wraps his legs around me, squeezing tightly, never once separating his lips from mine.
I nip at his jaw and bite at his earlobe before marking his neck with broad, open-mouth kisses that feel like I’m consuming him whole. His hard length pushing against my stomach is impossible to ignore, and his heavy breathing sends chills down my spine.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says as I make my way back up to his jaw.
That creaky old fear makes a half-hearted attempt to sneak back in, but it is laughably easy to push away when I have his vibrant, radiating heat in my arms and in my heart. I will not disappoint him ever again.
“I love you too, Ro,” I say in the space behind his ears, my own private confessional. “I’ve loved you from the beginning. I won’t ever stop loving you. Ever.”
The hitch in his chest brings my attention back to his eyes, where tears swim in an ocean of blue. If I could, I would erase the memory of all the hurt, but this moment makes that long, horrible time away from him worth it. I kiss the individual teardrops, the salty moisture a baptism on my lips.
We stare into each other’s eyes, and all I see is the future. I swear, in that moment, our heart beats synchronize, and my legs carry me in the direction of one of the hallways.
“This way?” I ask, knowing he needs no clarification.
He nods frantically. “First door on the right.”
I walk blindly, nailing my shin on the coffee table. Even after some pretty colorful cursing, my man is still koala’d to me, laughing and shining like sun on the water.
“I’ll kiss it and make it better,” he says, starting with my eyelashes.
I didn’t know that eyelash kisses could feel like forever, but here we are.
I navigate a bit more carefully through the living room and down the hall and into the guest bedroom. When I let him down to undress, it feels as though a limb has been removed from my body and I pull him back into a warm embrace.
His face smashed against my chest, he mumbles, “If I can’t get undressed, you can’t get to the goods, so…”
I whine, a little more high-pitched than I was anticipating, and he laughs, a sound like happiness in my ears. He rips off his shirt and shimmies out of his jeans and underwear in one go, leaving me paralyzed, hand still fisting the back of my shirt as I look at him. Really look at him. Pale and pretty, eyes dancing, lips red and waiting, hair crazy and almost iridescent, like a raven. The bluest eyes regard me with a look that contains more love than I’ve ever felt in my entire life.
And now it’s my chest that’s hitching, and my tears that are falling, and his delicate hands that are touching my face.
“Oh my god,” I sob, keeping it together by a thread. “I almost missed this, Ro. I almost went the rest of my life without you in it.”
His eyes sparkle as he helps me untangle myself from my T-shirt. Running his hands along my broad ridges, his fingers find paths through the hairiness he taught me to be proud of.
“But you didn’t. You chose to be brave. And now, we celebrate with sex,” he says, the devil in his grin despite the emotion in his eyes.
I nod, laughing at my display. “And now we celebrate with sex. Fair warning,” I say, pointing to the raging hard-on in my jeans. “I’m not going to last long.”
“Neither am I,” he says as he leans up into a kiss while his fingers find and undo the button and zipper on my jeans. “Fast is good. We’ll go slow later.”
I toe out of my boots and push down my pants and underwear. Sitting on the bed, I remove everything as he stands in front of me, stroking himself lazily, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark.
Once I’m finally divested of my clothing, he starts prowling toward me, looking possessed as he pushes me to crawl backward until we reach the middle of the bed. He reaches over, the line of his body elegant as he grabs lube from his bag. Even the way he preps himself is graceful, delicate. His refinement falls apart the second he straddles me, his expression practically feral as he slides down, pausing to savor the moment my head breaches the tight ring of muscle.
Rolling his hips slightly, he teases the head over and over again with little squeezes and shallow thrusts. Right as I’m about to go out of my mind, he drops down in one violent push, bottoming out on my dick and destroying every brain cell along the way.
“Fuck me hard, Thane,” he says dreamily.
I grab his hips and thrust up, living for the increasingly loud curses and ragged breathing.
“I love you, I lo-love your fucking cock,” he says, pushing down as I thrust up. “I want to wake you up with blowjobs. Wor-worship that fucking cock of yours before I even let you leave the bed.”
I groan, the thought of waking up to that wet heat wrapped around my dick pushing me violently close to the edge.
