“You,” I pant out, “you did that forme?”
Her brows furrow. “D-did what? Come? If so, then yes.”
I chuckle lightly as she drapes herself over my chest. “Well, yes. That, but also the porn?” I ask, coming back to her earlier admission, the thing that officially pushed me over the fucking edge.God, I’m such an acts-of-service bloke.
Her hazy smile sharpens into a wide grin, her gaze roaming over the absolute mess we’ve made. “I wanted it to be good for you,” she says with a shrug, as if that isn’t the most lethal combination of sweet and sexy. And if things weren’t good enough already, she tugs the shirt over her head, using it to mop up my cum and wipe off her hands.
She collapses onto the bed beside me, reaching over with an outstretched finger and swiping it over my hip. “Missed a spot,” she says, her eyes glittering as she holds my gaze, sliding her finger into her mouth, and sucking my cum from it like she would that cardamom-and-rose ice cream I’ve been jealous of a time or ten.
I pull her finger from her mouth. “Alright, that’s enough. It’s my turn.”
She frowns. “You don’t have to do that. We can take things slow. I wanted to getyouoff. Besides, if you hadn’t noticed, I already came.”
“And it was one of the greatest moments of my life, sweetheart. I’ll be replaying it in my mind until the end of time, but—not to be dramatic—I mightdieif I don’t get to touch you. Totasteyou,” I plead.
She smirks, shaking her head. “Are you sure?” she asks. “Because what we did wasextremelyfun for me. I don’t want you to think this is a tit-for-tat situation.”
“The only tit I care about is yours, and the only tat we should be considering is your name scrawled across my chest.” I prop myself up on my elbow, my gaze roaming over her tight brown nipples and the wet spot between her legs. “Just relax, baby, let me take care of you,” I whisper, scooting down the bed.
She rolls her eyes, but the smile never leaves her face as she turns onto her back.
“Anything you know you don’t like?” I ask.
“I’ve only ever been fingered once, which felt a lot like they were searching for my IUD strings, and I've had penetrative sex with two people. None of it was very exciting. I firmly believe it was them, not me, though.”
I can’t help but laugh at that, sliding further down the bed and pressing a kiss below her belly button, over her hip bones, and thenlower.
I don't take pleasure in knowing her sexual experiences have been lacklustre. I want her to have all the joys of a full, happy life. But I can’t deny it brings me a fraction of satisfaction that she's already enjoying herself more with me than she ever did with her other sexual partners.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve got a feeling you were made to come only for me,” I murmur against her pubic bone, relishing the way she trembles beneath me.
CHAPTER
SIXTY-FOUR
Elijah iseverything I’d expect in bed, and yet, still so much more.
He takes his time, paying the most reverent attention to every last inch of my body before ever touching me where I need him most. He looks at me like I’m something to be cherished. Like I’mperfect.Even if my body has gone through so many drastic changes these last few months—my hip bones jutting out too far, bruises littering every surface, and my now-healing port scar, to name a few. He kisses each imperfection as if thanking them for being on this journey with me, like they’re a reminder that I made it at all.
“Get out of your head,” he murmurs, his lips pressing to the inside of my knee, working up my thighs as he pushes them further apart to accommodate his broad shoulders.
“I was merely thinking about how perfect you are.”
“Oh?” he asks, cocking a blond brow. “Well then, carry on.”
“Thank you for the permission, oh great one,” I tease.
“Don’t go giving me nicknames like that just yet. I might be the worst lay of your life.” His shoulders quake with laughter as he loops his arms beneath my thighs, pulling my pussy to his face.
“Good thing we have the rest of our lives to work out the kinks,” I say, regretting the words as soon as I speak them. I can’t promise him anything. Not yet.
He doesn’t seem to see the torment on my face. My words have had an entirely different impact on him, as if the proposal of a life spent together, with him perpetually on his knees for me, is the single best thing I could have ever offered him. A low growl leaves his lips, and then he’s on me.
His mouth slides over my slit, tongue slipping out and delving inside me. My eyes clamp shut, back bowing, and whatever I was just agonising about leaves my brain like leaves in the wind.
“I thought it was all make-believe,” he murmurs.
“You thoughtwhatwas all make-believe?”
