"Don't you get it? After all this time, don't you see it yet? There is nothing you could ever do that would keep me away." He ran his knuckles up the side of my neck and along my jaw, and then brushed his thumb over my lips. "I'll always belong to you, even if you don't belong to me."
I swallowed hard as his hand settled on the back of my neck. "And what if I do? What if I belong to you?"
"Then we start over and we get it right this time."
He leaned in, captured my lips, and brought his free hand to my hip. My backside connected with the washer as I knotted my hands in his shirt. His thigh slipped between my legs and I rocked against the solid ridge of him trapped behind his zipper. All at once, I was hot and wet, my inner muscles aching with the need to be stretched and filled.
He pressed into me, groaning."Audrey."
These shorts hid nothing at all and with him wedged up against me like this, it felt like he could pull the crotch out of the way and thrust into me. And I wanted that very much. I wanted him inside and—and I didn't want it to end. Not today, not in a few weeks, not ever.
"Say something," he growled, his lips on my jaw, my neck.
"It scares me," I said. "I don't think I could survive if this fell apart again."
"We won't let it." He hooked my leg around his waist and dragged his hand up from my knee to my backside. Those fingers gripped my flesh hard, like he wanted to leave a mark just sohe could come back tomorrow and kiss it better. There was something proprietary about the way he touched me. Like he'd just been waiting for me to realize what all of this meant and why he was here, and now he could stop holding back. "We just won't let it, Saunders."
I wanted to believe him though there were more than a few significant roadblocks in our way. "But?—"
Jude didn't let me finish. He stole my lips in a bruising kiss and rocked his erection against me and that was the end of our conversation. I dragged my nails over the ropey muscles of his back and shoulders, wanting to dig into him, to claim a piece of him for myself just as he claimed me.
He pushed my shorts and undies down to my ankles and I had to admit that was better than mypull the crotch out of the wayidea. Less cumbersome. Better for all involved.
He slipped a hand between my legs, growling as he drew circles around my clit. I was wet, shockingly so, and there was no hiding it now.
"What did it for you?" he asked, quite pleased with himself. "Hearing how completely you own me? Or realizing that I might actually be a stalker?"
I yanked the shirt over his head. "Neither. I'm just—I don't know. It's overwhelming to talk about trying to be us again."
"You could've told me that." He kissed his way along my jaw, back to the corner of my mouth.
I worked his belt open, pushed his clothes to the concrete floor. "I just did."
"You only told me because I pushed."
"Says the guy creeping on my baking blog for years. You can tell me things too, you know."
He took his cock in hand and gave it a long, slow stroke. "Are you ready to hear all the things I have to tell you?"
"Yes." I ran a hand through his hair before adding, "Maybe."
Growling, he pushed inside me with one slow thrust and held himself there as I gasped and shuddered. My grip on his hair was brutal but I couldn't help it. The pressure was unreal. Heat washed over my skin. I closed my eyes as I tried to talk my body into opening up a little more. That was all I needed. Just a little more.
"Oh god," I gasped. "I need— Wait. I can't. It's too much."
"You just need to breathe," he said. "Come on, princess. Breathe for me."
I fought to pull in air, to find that space inside myself. "It's like I can feel you everywhere."
"Good." He gave me a hard, quick kiss as my muscles yielded to him. "Now, let's get back to thatmaybe." His hand settled on the small of my back, canting my hips as he moved deeper inside me. My lips parted on a silent cry. "You can do better thanmaybe."
"You can tell me anything." The tension building inside me was too much. I couldn't bear it, not like this. Not all at once. I felt tears gathering behind my eyes and a deep, twisting ache low in my belly. "I won't jump out of the car."
"Anything? You're sure about that?"
He pulled out slowly, each inch dragging over my tender flesh like a promise—a threat?—of what was to come. "Anything," I whispered. "Please, just—yes."
He flattened me against the washer before the last word left my lips. I had one hand curled around the back of his neck, the other gripping his shoulder, and it was the best I could do to steady myself while he thrust into me.
