“Let me take care of you tonight,” he says. “I want you to just…let go. Nothing else matters right now. Just you and me, okay?”
A rush of heat ripples through me. “Okay,” I whisper.
I lie back on the bed, and he hovers above me, undressing me slowly, pulling off my sweatpants, my panties, my sweater. Each inch of skin he exposes makes his breathing grow heavier.
“You’re beautiful,” he says simply.
His clothes come off next, and then his warm, naked body covers mine, calloused hands sliding over my bare skin in slow, teasing caresses. His lips find my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spot beneath my ear.
I close my eyes and lose myself in sensation. In the feel of his mouth on my breasts, his tongue flicking my nipple. He isn’t rushing at all, but urgency simmers behind every kiss, every touch, as if he’s forcing himself to slow down.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs.
“I wantthis.” I swallow. “Do you?”
His eyes are swimming with emotion as he rises on his elbow to look at me.
“I’ve wanted you for so long I can’t even remember what it feels like to want anything else.”
His words make me dizzy, but he doesn’t give me time to fully absorb them. He’s kissing his way down my body, his palms stroking my inner thighs before he gently parts my legs. He lowers his head and plants a kiss on my pussy, soft and sweet. Then he licks a gentle circle around my clit, and I gasp.
He looks up with that dark, intense gaze. “Feel good?”
“Yes.” I’m almost embarrassed by how fast the word escapes my mouth.
A smile curves his lips before he dips his head again and resumes his slow and dedicated mission to wreck me. And he does. He licks me until I’m mindless, long strokes interspersed with teasing flicks, his lips wrapping around my clit and sucking it, teasing it, making me whimper with pleasure.
By the time he puts on a condom and slides inside me, I’m a live wire waiting for a spark. And the spark comes in the form of his cock filling me to the hilt. I climax from that first, deep stroke, unraveling beneath him. My orgasm only spurs him to move faster, thrusting his hips into me, his eyes open and fixed on my face.
You’d hate how much I’d want from you. How much I’d take.
His confession from early in the summer burns through my mind.
He’s wrong. I don’t hate it.
But it terrifies me.
My gaze stays locked with his as he comes, pleasure darkening his eyes and drawing a low, husky noise from his throat. Afterward, he collapses on me, and I wrap my arms around him. I lie beneath him, breathless not just from his weight on me but from the storm of emotion that swept through the bedroom.
When I feel the moisture on my shoulder, I realize I’m not the only one affected.
“Hey,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. “You okay?”
His broad body trembles, and my throat clamps shut when he lifts his head and I see his tears, his red-rimmed eyes.
“We lost our baby, Blake.” His voice cracks, and so does my heart. Right in two. Because it’s the last thing I need to hear right now. Or ever again.
As agony rips into me, I disentangle from his embrace, easing outfrom under him. He rolls onto his back, forearm covering his eyes, his breathing shallow.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why I can’t comfort him. The reasonable part of my brain knows that he suffered a loss too. This isn’t just about me. It wasourloss. Not mine.
But I don’t have it in me to do this. To carry this for both of us. I suddenly can’t breathe. The tears pour out, soaking my cheeks and the pillow as I press my face against it.
Realizing I’m sobbing, Wyatt slides in behind me and wraps his arm around my trembling body.
“I’m sorry,” he says against my hair. “I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t cry.”
I can’t stop, though. I cry even harder, because tonight it’s not just sorrow fueling the tears but also guilt. Because I’m not strong enough to take on Wyatt’s grief. I can barely handle my own.
