I creep up her body, covering her with all of me. Use my weight to press her down on the bed. Stare into her defiant brown eyes. “You’re going to beg me to fuck you is what you’re going to do.”
Faith brings up her legs to trap my hips in a death grip. Holy shit, she has muscular thighs. Of course, she does. She runs to keep herself in shape. Her nails dig into my shoulder blades, and when she lifts her chin and flares her nostrils, I expect her to remain silent. Stubborn. For this to become a battle of wills. But as always with her, she keeps me on my toes.
“Please, Jester,” she breathes. “Fuck me.”
She rolls her hips upward, and it’s all the invitation my aching cock needs. Groaning, I reach between our bodies to take my dick in hand. Rub the tip up her slit. Use her wetness to ease my way in as I slide inside slowly. So fucking slowly. And when she arches her back as I slip in inch by agonizing inch, all I can do is stare at her in wonder, marveling that this stunning, amazing woman is mine.
“That feels good, my girl?”
“Yes,” she hisses out on a moan.
I kiss her throat. Her mouth. Her cheeks. I want to kiss her everywhere, but the pressure builds too fast. I got inside my fucking head, and now I can’t get out of it. Pumping fast, driving deep into her warmth. Not that Faith seems to mind. She right here with me. Riding this tidal wave. But I want more. Need more. And when I flip her around and take her from behind, Faith flips her hair so that it feathers across her back. I fist the thick, brown mass in one hand and grip her hip with the other, pumping into her so hard, I force her forward.
“Too much?”
“Just enough.”
I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her.
This woman will be the death of me.
I always imagined I’d go out in a hail of bullets. Not balls-deep in Faith Decker. But here we are, and as my vision goes spotty, I’m damn sure I’m about to meet my maker. The devil, not God—because a man like me isn’t the product of the divine.
Every muscle strains, and my balls tighten as I come, my dick pulsating inside her. And once the last drop is spent, I collapse on top of her, landing on her back in a sweaty heaving heap.
What does my stupid ass do? I ask a dumb motherfucking question is what I do. “Did you come?”
She chokes out a laugh. “Um, yes, I came, you idiot.”
“Good to know.” I lift off her because she’s tiny, and I’m, well, I’m not.
She turns around, and gawking at me, she looks genuinely perplexed. “You can’t tell?”
I kiss the tip of her nose. “I kinda zoned out for a second.”
The audacity of her to laugh in my face. “Sex was that good, huh?”
“Always.” I smooth a hand over her hair, amazed at how she gets prettier the more I look at her. “You know I never stopped loving you, right?”
Wait. Did I say that out loud? Like, those words actually fell out of my face?
Oh well. It’s not some giant secret. I love this woman. My friends know it. They haven’t stopped making fun of me about it since we were teenagers. No big deal that I finally said it to the one person who should hear it.
Faith’s cheeks flush with the cutest blush. She chews her bottom lip and glances away. She drags in a shaky breath. When she cups my cheek, her hand is sweaty and trembling. Honestly? I can’t tell if it’s because her glucose is low (her alarm is going off) or from emotion. But I notice the hint of tears in her eyes, and it’s like a fist around my heart.
When she looks back at me, her gaze is steady. “I love you, Jester.” Her whispered confession is almost lost on Metallica’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls” raging from the main room. The furious song is a crazy contradiction to our mushy moment. “God knows I failed to convince myself I hated you.”
I cover her hand with mine. “I’m so sorry, Faith.”
The kiss she places on my forehead resonates throughout my entire body. “We’re not living in the past anymore, remember?”
I hop off the bed. “How the hell did someone like me get someone like you?”
Faith doesn’t cover herself, and I love how comfortable she is living in her own skin. “Fuck if I know, because I’m awesome.”
I roll my eyes as I grab her bag. “So humble.” I toss her backpack on the bed. “Drink some juice or eat a glucose tab before you seize.”
“Bossy bastard,” she grumbles, but she checks her BG before popping a tab to raise her sugar.
