There’s nothing more beautiful than making love with her.
“I love you,” I say to her because I can’t not say it to her.
The most breathtaking smile overcomes her face and it’s one I’ll keep with me forever.
She cups my face in her hands and pulls me in for a kiss that lights up every cell in my body. Her tongue dances with mine as I let her ravage my mouth.
When she releases my lips she keeps her face close to mine. Our hot breaths fanning against one another’s face, but we’re so lost in each other that it doesn’t matter.
I can tell she’s close by the way her pussy grips my cock and how she’s picked up the pace. My balls draw heavy, and I feel at any second I’m about to come.
Needing her to come with me I place my hands on either side of her hips and switch our positions.
A needy whine comes from her as my cock slips out of her. But it immediately turns into a moan when I thrust deep inside from behind.
She pushes back against me as we find a maddening rhythm, meeting me thrust for thrust.
I don’t know how much longer I can hold on and I want, no, I need for her to come with me.
Snaking my hand around her my fingers thrum against her clit and with one hard thrust that’s all it takes for her to fall apart in my arms.
I then come with her, finally releasing myself inside her.
She lays spent on the bed. Her body is lax as she comes down from her orgasm.
I press a kiss to the back of her neck as I slowly ease myself out of her. I hear her wince and it’s the only time that I curse myself for my size. I know the pleasure it brings but I can also imagine the discomfort.
Pressing another kiss, this time to the middle of her back, I then turn her over before cradling her in my arms.
There’s a post orgasmic glow on her face that I take a mental picture of. Lazily she wraps her arms around my neck as she curls up against me.
“Okay, so I can be distracted by sex.”
I laugh and so does she.
God, how fucking glorious does it feel to fucking laugh.
“But I would still like to know the truth,” she says softly.
My arms tighten around her. The need to never let go is strong. I rest my head on the top of hers and breathe her in. The scent of sex and jasmine filling my nostrils. It’s always enough to calm the wars wagering inside me.
“I love you, Grace.”
The pad of her finger traces along my lips before she caresses the side of my face. Automatically I lean into her touch. “That’s a truth I’ll never tire of hearing.” She smiles.
“Then I’ll tell you every fucking day how I love you more than the previous.”
“You’re incredibly sweet,” she tells me in a voice that feels like a gentle caress. “But you’re also evading the conversation.”
“Have I told you how much I love that you call me out on my shit?”
“You love everything about me, big guy. And who can blame you?” She teases me and I chuckle. “But I need you to tell me now if they are charging you or not.”
I swallow. Why does it seem so much more threatening and real once I tell her? “They’re charging me with the murder of Chris Townsend.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, and I feel it pierce my heart. Her eyes widen with worry. Shifting in my hold she straddles me, holding my face in the palm of her hands.
“On what evidence? Can they even keep you? Will you have a bond set? Have they even questioned you yet?” She demands in rapid fire questions that begin to set her in a panic.
