Yes to them.
And it settled something deep in his chest, steadying him in a way he hadn’t known he needed.
Each thrust of his hips wrenched sweet incomprehensible moans from her throat, spurring him on. He pulled back a bit, repositioned her leg, shin against his chest, and plunged back.
Deeper. Harder. Again and again.
And those soft sounds she made deepened — turning into breathy, broken cries of pleasure that shot straight through him, tightening every muscle he had. “More … yes … right there … Justin.”
Hearing his name like that — pleaded, breathless, threaded with trust and need — ignited something fierce and reverent inside him.
Never had his name felt sweeter, like a confession and a promise all at once. “Sweet Suze…” The words tore out of him, rough and reverent all at once. “My love.”
With those words she broke apart, arching into him, crying out. Heat gathered in his hips, robbing him of everything except the need to possess. To claim. To—
“Mine. All mine,” he roared, his release sudden and sharp and blinding, taking him to the edge of consciousness.
His movements slowed, stopped. Drained, exhausted, he lowered himself on trembling arm and buried his head in the curve of her shoulder. “You’ll be the death of me,” he managed after a few ragged breaths. “But damn, what a way to go.”
A soft laugh fluttered out of her, warm and breathy, brushing over his skin like a caress. Her fingers slipped into his hair, combing through the damp curls at his nape with gentle strokes that undid him even further.
“You’re ridiculous,” she whispered, affection threading through every syllable. Another light laugh. “Ridiculous … and wonderful.”
He lifted his head just enough to see her face — her flushed cheeks, her mussed hair, the lingering shimmer of emotion in her eyes — and something in his chest clenched painfully.
If he hadn’t already loved her, that moment alone would have done it.
*
A light breeze drifted through the open window, carrying the faint scent of salty brine and a hint of wild rosemary. Justin lay beside her, his breathing deep and even, the steady warmth of his body anchoring her. If she’d ever harbored doubts about his feelings for her, tonight had eliminated them. Not merely eliminated — obliterated. Wiped out with the force of a nuclear blast.
And she wasn’t just talking about the sex.
Phenomenal as it was, it was the emotion threaded through every look, every touch, every word.
Justin McKenzie — JK Kenzie, billionaire movie star, global heartthrob — loved her.
And he was prepared to give up that part of his life. For her.
Her.
The girl abandoned as a child, the woman overlooked by her own husband.
But he didn’t know all about her.
And when she revealed her lowest point — the things she had done simply to survive, to keep a roof over her head and food on the table — would that love wither and die in disgust?
Would his eyes, so full of adoration now, harden with revulsion?
The thought alone threatened to break her.
She had to tell him. Keeping it buried would only make the truth fester between them. But could he handle it?
It was the last thought before sleep claimed her.
*
He’d left early, promising to join her later that morning for the Christmas luncheon.
