“Oh God, Em.” His voice was shaky. “Your skin…it’s perfect. I want to trace every inch of it. Come on, stand. Let me see all of you.”
She hesitated, color rising to her cheeks. “It’s not perfect. I have stretch marks.”
They’d been caused by her past weight loss and were suckers to get rid of.
Nicolas tilted his head, one brow lifting in defiance. Then, without a word, he bent his neck and pressed his mouth gently to one of the silvery lines etched across her skin. The gesture was so delicate it took her breath away.
“Exactly,” he whispered. “That’s what makes it perfect. Now stand.”
She buried her face in his chest, groaning into the fabric like she could disappear into it. After a beat, she straightened, rising to her feet with resolve.
Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as his gaze swept overher. She felt like a canvas under scrutiny by its painter, every flaw suddenly exposed yet cherished.
“Absolute perfection,” he said, and the words landed like an atomic bomb.
She blinked, trying to gather what was left of her. The gravity in his tone left her momentarily suspended.
Nicolas stood up and instinctively, her gaze dropped to the floor. He loomed above her, not in a way that intimidated, but in a way that enveloped. The air between them quivered, like two magnetized ends threatened by the inevitable pull toward each other.
His arms slid around her waist, drawing her into the solid warmth of his chest. Her breath caught as her boobs pressed snugly against him.
Her eyes met his at the contact. There was no escaping him in that moment. Not that she wanted to.
“I can’t believe I’m going to have all of you for the rest of my life,” he breathed.
Emily trembled at the genuineness of his voice. For the rest of his life? Was that a promise? If not, she’d make it become one. He was looking at her like the chances of them being together, or at all, had been nothing than a past wish he’d set aside and tucked away in some deep, dark part of him. But now he could take it out, dust it off and start believing in it again.
“How fortunate it is that another man hasn’t swept you off your feet. Well, taking all things into consideration, I guess he failed to keep you afloat, didn’t he?” he asked, remembering her wretched ex-fiancé.
His fingers dug into her skin with a desperate plea. “I promise I won’t let you drown. God, you’re so beautiful.” He ran his hand through his hair as if he couldn’t fathom the image of her.
Beautiful.
Emily was swept with pleasure. Nicolas Re thought she was beautiful. She’d been told that by many people, but no one had quite the effect like he did. When he said it, it felt like a truth, not a label. It made something inside her melt like liquid fire. There was no performance in his voice. No expectation in his eyes. He wasn’t admiring a version of her she’d curated. He was seeing all of her—scars and all—and engulfing them into that one word: beautiful.
He grasped her hair which incited a gasp from her. “I really fucking love your hair,” he confessed.
Then he snapped. Both hands in it. Gripping. Tugging. Emily moaned as his tongue coaxed her lips for entrance. She let him in with a sound unbecoming of her.
He held her hip tighter after hearing it. One hand stayed tangled in her hair. And the other that rested below went lower.
His palm found her ass. Then he squeezed one cheek. Hard.
She blushed a furious red against his lips.
He gave an appreciative swat of her butt before his eyes locked onto hers.
“I figured out what we should do,” he mumbled against her lips, hot breath fanning out of his mouth and washing over her skin.
At this point, Emily didn’t care what he did. If she was with him, anything was fine. More than fine, actually.Thatwould be perfect.
She barely noticed when Nicolas’s hands journeyed and they rested on the waistband of her panties, his lips still melded with her own.
Slowly, his fingers dipped past her mound to brush against the clothed core causing a small squeak to rip fromEmily’s throat. Her hips immediately bucked forward. He didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he looked pleased, focusing all his attention right where she needed him most.
“Are you scared?” he asked, noticing the tremor in her body. “Scared to let me in like this?”
Her eyes flickered over his face silently. It took all she could to muster a faint, “I think so.”
