I nod. “I knew the first day in the coffee shop. I’ve been fighting with myself to let you go. You’re too good for me and deserve someone better.” I take a deep breath. “I’m a selfish bastard, though. I don’t want to ever let you go, and if we take this any further, I’m going to tie you to me every way I know how.”
Hope smirks. “What are you waiting for?”
I lift her into my arms, and she wraps her legs around my waist in a tight grip.
“Bedroom?” I growl.
“First door on your left,” she instructs.
In the bedroom, I lower Hope to her feet with her back against my chest. I nuzzle the curve of her neck, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and vanilla.
My voice is a low rumble against her skin. “You remember what I said out there in your dining room?”
She shivers in my arms, a full-body tremor I feel straight down to my soul. “Yes.”
I tighten my grip, my hands splaying across the soft plane of her stomach. “Say it.”
She breathes in, a shaky little intake of air. “You said, if we do this… I’m yours. Forever.”
“That’s right.” I bite her earlobe, not hard, just enough to make her gasp. “No take-backs, no rewrites. This isn’t one of your stories. This is forever. Are you sure?”
Her answer is immediate.“Yes.”
That one word, so full of certainty, unravels the last of my control. I spin her around in the dim light of her bedroom, finally capturing her mouth with mine. It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s a claim, a promise I intend to keep. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, tasting her, learning her, memorizing her. Her hands come up to clutch at my shoulders, her fingers digging into the tight muscle there, holding on like I’m the only solid thing in the world.
I walk her backward until her knees hit the edge of the mattress, and she sits with a soft gasp. Staring down at her, I drink her in. Her lips are already swollen, and her eyes are dark with a hunger that mirrors my own.
I remove my cut and place it on a hook on the back of her door. Reaching over my head, I grip my shirt and yank it off. Hope’s eyes bulge at the sight. I smirk as I watch her eyes roam over the tattoos on my chest and the muscles on my upper body.
“Take off your shirt,” I command, my voice rough.
Her fingers tremble as she obliges, pulling the soft cotton over her head. Her bra is light lavender, which contrasts beautifully with those gorgeous hazel eyes. I let my gaze roam over her, hot and possessive, before I kneel, placing myself between her spread knees. I press an open-mouthed kiss to her stomach, just above the button of her jeans. She jumps at the contact, a sharp, surprised sound escaping her lips.
“Frost…”
“I’m here, darlin’,” I murmur against her skin, my hands going to the button of her jeans.
I work it open slowly, the rasp of the zipper loud in the quiet room. I hook my fingers into the waistband of her jeans andpanties and pull them down in one agonizingly slow motion. She lifts her hips to help me, her breath coming in short, eager pants. I toss the clothing and just look at her, laid bare for me.
Fuck, she’s perfect.
I lean forward, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, and then another, a few inches higher. I take my time, mapping the sensitive skin of her inner thighs with my lips and tongue. Her muscles quiver under my touch, and I can smell her arousal. It’s a sweet vanilla scent that drives me wild. I breathe her in, letting the anticipation build for both of us.
“Please,”she whispers, her voice strained as both hands fist the comforter.
I ignore her, shifting to lavish the same attention on her other thigh. My cock is rock hard, but her pleasure is my focus right now. I need to hear her break.
When my tongue finally,finallyflicks against her wet heat, she cries out, a sharp, broken sound. Her back arches off the bed. I hold her hips down, pinning her in place.
“I’ve got you,” I growl before diving in.
My tongue circles her clit, once, twice, before sucking gently. Hope moans a drawn-out sound of pure bliss. I explore every sensitive spot, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her hips buck against my mouth. I slide two fingers inside her, and she clenches around me instantly.
“More,” she begs, her voice cracking. “God, Frost, more.”
I add a third finger, stretching her slowly, my thumb working tight circles on her clit. Her breath is ragged, her pleas becoming a desperate chant. I can feel her starting to tighten around my fingers, her body tightening like a coiled spring. I speed up my thumb, my fingers curling inside her, finding that sweet spot that makes her scream.
She comes with a shattered cry, her body convulsing around my hand, her thighs clamping around my head. I ride out herorgasm with my tongue while my fingers massage her clit until the last tremor subsides.
