I run my palms up his bare chest, lost in my need for him. “Lie back,” I whisper, giving a little shove. “Lie back, and let me make you feel good.”
His eyes flare, and he watches me closely as I sit up, guide him onto his back. Crawling down his body, so much bigger than mine, I revel in the way his abs constrict beneath me, the tangible clutch of his undivided attention. For years, I craved it, to be the center of his universe, and now that I finally am, he won’t let me forget it.
Shivering, I trail my lips down the mark that leads to his belly button. Fingers tangle in my hair, and he trembles under the stroke of my tongue as I move lower, lower. My hand finds the button of his jeans, and I undo it before sliding his zipper down. Then, I grip his jeans and boxers together and pull them down his body with his help.
Naked and resembling a sculpted statue from the Roman era, he sits up partially, resting his weight on his forearms. Lust-filled eyes watch me come back to him. My breath catches at the full sight of his erection, so much bigger than I realized, and an unfamiliar thrill courses up my spine. Is this what he felt when he wanted to taste me? This overwhelmingneed? Settling between his legs, I lower my head to his hard length. Then I run my tongue from the base to the tip. He hisses a breath, and when I wrap my lips around his crown and swirl my tongue, a low groan vibrates into my mouth. Finally, I take as much of him as I can in my mouth, using my hands to tease the rest. The rough noises he makes are so sexy and tantalizing I clench my thighs together to ease the throbbing ache.
I slide up, down, up—
“Fuck,come here.” His grip curls around the nape of my neck, and he pulls me up his body until my mouth connects with his. My core tightens from the ferocity of his kiss—insatiable, messy, and starving, and I gasp when he flips me onto my back. Strong hands hold my wrists above my head, but the heated kisses he peppers along my naked body are so tender and worshipping I tremble with each taste, surrendering myself to him in a way I never thought I’d be able to. His mouth travels over my breasts, teasing my nipples and drawing a full-body sigh from me. When the length of his erection presses against my wetness, he stills above me, shoulders pulling tight. I hear him swallow, and butterflies blend with the heat pooling in my stomach.
My legs are open for him, his need for me so consuming he’s shaking, and yet instead of outright taking what he needs, he gives me an out and waits for my reassurance that I still want this. Gratitude overwhelms me, seeping from my heart and reminding me why I love him the way I do.
Our gazes connect, hot and burning with a passion so deep it dampens my skin. Reaching between us, I wrap my fingers around his erection. An uneven exhale leaves his lips as I guide him toward my wetness, but then his hand curls around mine, stopping me. I look up at him questioningly, and his voice is tightly leashed when he says, “Condom.”
I watch as he reaches into the nightstand and pulls one out. Even the way he rolls it onto his erection makes me hotter. Then, he’s back on top of me, his heat curling around my body, and I’m ready. My heart pounds, breath quickens, and his tip pushes inside, stretching me open. A harsh sound rumbles up his chest, his forehead touching mine. He slowly moves deeper, deeper, pulling a moan up my throat, then he pauses, allowing me time to adjust to him. After a beat, my eyes flutter shut as he fills me completely. A long tremble wracks his body. His lips are unsteady when they brush mine, and he runs his palm down my waist, grips lightly, then he starts to rock against me. Heat erupts in my center, my pulse beating in tune to my broken panting. We move together, breathe together, find our rhythm together. His tongue slips between my lips, and he kisses me in a language only we understand.
Worthy.
Beautiful.
Wanted.
This time, our tongues whisper the words to each other. We pour everything we are into our kiss, our rhythmic dance, our uneven breaths.This. This is what I was missing whenever I ran to guys in the past—I didn’t need their bodies; I needed the connection. My hips rise to meet every deep, slow thrust, and when he breaks away from my mouth to taste, pull, tease the sensitive skin on my neck, the heat in my core grows so hot, so tight, I grip him hard and beg with my movements for him to go faster. A low rumble vibrates from his chest to mine, and he obliges—faster, harder. The bed creaks with our chase, mixing with the sounds of our panting and coarse noises. His fingers tighten on my waist, his other hand finding my thigh and pushing my leg up. I cry out his name as he goes deeper than I thought possible, throwing my head back, and the fiery heat at my center coils, clenches, and bursts into a thousand liquid hot trails along my body. He releases a low, rough groan. I feel him tense against me. His grip clamps around my thigh, and a series of violent tremors roll through him.
A slow, satisfied warmth consumes me, making my body heavy and light all at once. “So,” I breathe, eyes weighed down with the afterglow of pleasure, “do you feel better?”
“Fuck, Eva,” he rasps, tensing as another spasm rocks him. A harsh exhale fans my neck, and he tries to hold himself up by his forearms as his heavy, languid weight collapses against my body. “You’ve fucking cured me.”
I laugh, and I feel his lips curve against my neck, but he doesn’t bother to lift his head. After a moment, he releases a sigh, rolls onto his side, and pulls me against his chest. Eyes closed, his arms hold me tight; a promise to never let me go. As I listen to the deep sounds of his breathing, the steady beating of his heart, I make my own silent promise to myself. A promise to love myself. A promise to protect who I am. And, starting now, a promise oftruth.
“Easton?” I whisper.
He hums a low sound, his thumb tracing soft circles over my waist.
“I love you. I could love you forever. I think ... I think I can even love you enough.”
He lifts my chin to meet his steady, sweltering gaze. His Adam’s apple moves up and down. “You’re enough, Eva. You’ve always been enough.”
My chest pounds, neck hot. And I know what I need to do.
To my surprise, my voice doesn’t shake at all with my next words. All I hear is the certainty truth and trust brings. “And I’m ready to talk to you. To tell you what happened to me.”
He angles his head, soft lips brushing mine. His exhale warms my skin and curls my toes. Then, he kisses me fervidly before he pulls back and meets my gaze. “You’re sure? I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m sure, and I don’t want to wait. I want to tell you everything.”
Draped in satin sheets and propped up on my elbow, I watch Easton’s shoulder muscles flex as he types on his laptop at the desk. My gaze slides to the duffle bag at his feet—unzipped, it reveals a corner of the police academy application packet Vincent dropped off before Easton was released from the hospital. It’s 1:00 in the morning, yet he’s working on the application.
My heart flutters while I stare shamelessly at him, and something tightens my throat. I could have stumbled into anyone’s backyard that night, almost four years ago. But, somehow, I snuck into the bed of a stranger’s truck, and that man stopped driving at exactly the right moment. Somehow, that man even chased me in the right direction. Somehow, I lost my breath, my legs gave out, and just when I couldn’t bear to walk any farther, I found myself where I was meant to be.
And, somehow, I heard my song.
Her song.
His song.
The music behind every fighting bone in my body and every beat of my heart.
