Holding her gaze, he claimed her mouth with his, resisting his own instinct to lower himself, battling his craving to settle in between her legs.
Exploring her mouth, he became lost in her, feeling her emotions, knowing her thoughts, claiming her heart.
“You love me.” He sucked and thrust with his tongue, catching the small cry she uttered.
He wanted inside of her. All of him. Inside of her.
Her lovely legs were wrapped around his waist, tugging, clinging.
She wanted him, he knew, but was terrified of claiming one person forever.
He pinched one of her breasts, flattened his palm against it, and spread her juices over the taut nipple.
“I love all of you, damn it, Miranda.” Her ribcage expanded beneath his hand. Her soft cheek tasted like honey. She shivered as he kissed a tender spot behind her ear. She thrust her hips into his hand where he would explore her most intimate sanctuary.
Slick folds—soft lips—guarding her center. His own sex throbbed, aching to claim her. He rubbed his thumb over the sensitive flesh he would taste again later and then claimed her mouth with his again.
Her gasp—staccato bursts, not quite a ‘C’ sharp.
He slid two fingers inside, and then out again, hovering—denying them both—and ending the kiss on a soft sigh.
The doubt in her eyes made him feel like crying.
She was so much stronger than she realized. Powerful in ways she couldn’t see. And despite all the pain she’d known in her life, her heart was whole. It was whole, and it was his.
“I love you,” he whispered. “And you love me.”
She blinked slowly and then dipped her chin.
Yes.
Something sad lurked in her eyes but also something else.
“Yes?”
“Yes.” She dipped her chin again.
The word hovered in the air between them.
“I will be here. I will come,” he insisted.
“I know.” And then as though tortured, she closed her eyes and tugged his mouth back to hers. This time, Peter lowered his body, sinking both of them into the mattress and sinking inside of her at the same time.
He’d run out of time. Had he tuned some of her strings? It was something but… as a musician, he knew that strings required tuning over and over again.
Her heat surrounded his cock. Her taste filled his mouth. He touched her with his body from the tips of their toes to their lips and cheeks and foreheads.
Deeper. He withdrew and then entered again, going deeper. And then he went deeper still. All the while her legs and arms locked onto him.
This was right.
This was love.
For the first time in his life, he knew exactly what he wanted.
Shifting Hearts
Miranda had convinced herself that her life could go back to normal after Peter Spencer moved on. She could not have been more wrong.
