Breathe. Breathe.
My body turned against me, the longing both physical and painful. In that moment, I wanted to give it all up just to feel him one more time.
My head snapped up when swift footsteps echoed behind me. My chest constricted. It was seconds before I felt that familiar heat on my back. I swallowed dryly, staring at my white knuckles still on the handle, willing my feet to walk out the door. David’s arm curled around me. His hand went to the lock. I closed my eyes. The deadbolt slid into place with a deafening click.
“Turn,” he demanded. “Look at me.”
My body obeyed on its own, as did my eyes. He slipped cold hands underneath my hair and grasped the nape of my neck.
You are my escape,I said silently.
In his arms, nothing could touch me—not fear, pain, monsters under the bed, attackers, the judgments of others.
He found my impatient, wet lips with his and calmed them with a sweet, close-mouthed kiss. His tongue gently coaxed my mouth open. I responded slowly but desperately, snaking my arms around his back and clutching him close as though he might disappear if I didn’t. My weight sank against him, and he sucked air sharply from my parted lips.
“Oh, God,” he said into my mouth. “I want you so fucking bad. I never stopped wanting you.”
“Don’t make me go,” I pleaded quietly.
His arms tightened around me. “How could I ever make you go?” Our lips collided with the heat of reunited lovers, his tongue, hands, and mouth taking over. Lovers who had just overcome an agonizing, crawling enemy—time.
His hand slid up my back and tangled in my hair, pulling slightly to expose my neck. He licked and then kissed a spot under my ear, and I wilted against him. Every part of his body was hard, from the arms that held me, to the abs that supported me, to the erection that begged me. I moved my hips into his, encouraged by the small groans that escaped the back of his throat.
With one hand still in my hair, the other dropped to my ass and squeezed me against him. His lips returned to mine with urgency, and he kissed me like he owned me. Like I was made to be kissed that way by him.
He laced his hand with mine and led me from the exit. In the dark master bedroom, he placed me in front of a curved stretch of seamless windows, the cityscape at my back.
“Take it off,” he instructed and backed away to watch.
After reaching behind myself to lower my zipper, I stepped out of my shoes and onto the cold marble floor. The jumpsuit peeled from my body like I was shedding a second skin. I wavered in my lacy black strapless bra and matching thong, awaiting instruction.
“Christ.” With anguish in his voice, he reached out, turned me around, and ran a hand down the length of my spine. “You’re so skinny. You’re nothing,” he said.
I looked over my shoulder and responded instantly, “I’m nothing without you.”
He turned me to face him, kissed my palms reverently, and then the insides of my wrists. His lips moved up my left arm and over my shoulder, moaning my name softly against my skin. “I never stopped thinking of you,” he said. “My beautiful girl. I’ve dreamed of having you again over and over.”
His words were bittersweet pangs in my heart. I squashed my guilt over the ways I’d hurt David by fumbling with the fly of his pants until it gave. I gathered up his soft sweater, nudging my head underneath to kiss his stomach. He shed the top layer of his clothing, and I admired him in his under t-shirt and boxer briefs—a wall of man before me, stripped down to the basics.
He lifted me, and my legs wrapped around him. Yanking back the covers, he placed me atop buttery sheets and against a mountain of pillows. I stayed secured to him as he ran a firm hand along my leg, fueling my ache. We stared at each other, me communicating with my eyes what I couldn’t with my words.
“You know why I get that way, don’t you?” he asked suddenly. “It’s torture to be next to you and not be able to even touch you. I can’t stay away from you, and I can’t have you.”
I nodded at the man who brooded better than anyone, hearing his words but nearly blind with lust. “Take this off,” I commanded, fisting his shirt.
He stood and tugged at the collar to yank it over his head. His boxer briefs were next. I bit my lip at the enormity of him, solid and real,finally so real,and me, trembling with anticipation for him to relieve the heavy emptiness between my legs.
He was back on the bed, and I pulled at the ends of his velvety hair so he’d settle his weight on me. His long body felt right covering mine.
I arched into him while his deft, coarse fingers released the clasp of my bra. His immense hand skated up my stomach. My nipples tightened as he pinched them. With a hand on one breast, he lowered his head. I gasped, my breast swelling into his open mouth as he swirled his tongue around it.
The longing between my legs tormented me, impatient to be acknowledged. He explored me leisurely, though, with his lips and his hands, revering each curve of my body. In some spots, he grasped me urgently, and in others, his touch was so gentle that I was sure I’d imagined it. I kept my hands tangled in his hair for fear that I’d wake up from this dream empty-handed.
“Olivia,” he moaned into the space between my breasts. Goose bumps lighted across my skin as his hand slipped into my panties. “Christ,” he grated out. His other hand grabbed mine. “Feel how wet you are,” he demanded, pushing my hand between my legs. He guided both our fingers into me.
“David,” I begged.
“For me, baby. Does he get you dripping like this?”
