She nods, and there’s trust in her eyes. Trust and want and something that looks terrifyingly like the beginning stage of love.
I push inside her, and she cries out, and I have to clamp my jaw shut to keep from embarrassing myself right here, right now.She’s so tight, so warm, so perfect. It’s a miracle I don’t spill just like that.
“Are you okay?” I manage, my voice wrecked. I couldn’t dream of hurting her, even in a moment like this.
She nods, eyes squeezed shut, and when they open again, they’re bright enough to dazzle. “More than okay.”
I start to move. Slow at first, letting her adjust, letting us both get used to the feel of this. Of us. But it doesn’t take long before slow isn’t enough. Before she’s wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling me deeper, before I’m losing myself in the slide of her body against mine, in the sounds she makes, in the way she says my name like I’m everything she needs.
“You feel—” I can’t even finish the sentence. There aren’t words for this. For the way she clenches around me, for the way her nails dig into my back, for the way her eyes flutter shut and her mouth falls open, and she just takes me.
“Harder,” she breathes, and I’m powerless to deny her.
I brace myself on my forearms, caging her in, and I drive into her with more force. The headboard starts knocking against the wall, a rhythmic thumping that matches the sound of our bodies coming together, and I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except her.
“That’s it,” I groan against her mouth. “That’s it, Tatum. Take all of me.”
Her inner walls flutter around me, and I know she’s close. I can feel it in the way her body tenses, in the way her heels dig into my lower back, in the way her breath comes in short, sharp gasps.
“Abel, I-I’m going to—”
“I know.” I reach between us, my thumb finding that sensitive spot, and I press down just the way I learned from watching earlier. “Let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
She falls apart in a matter of seconds.
Her back bows off the mattress, her mouth opening in a silent scream, and the feeling of her coming undone around me—it’s too much. It’s everything. My own release barrels toward me like a freight train, and I can’t stop it, don’t want to stop it.
I pull out just enough to shift, and then I’m lifting her hips. Angling her. Positioning her in a way that feels I’m moving on instinct. I don’t know why, I just know I need to be deep. Need to be inside.
“Abel?” Her voice is hazy, post-orgasm, but there’s a question there.
I thrust back into her, deeper than before, and her eyes go wide. I hold her hips aloft, tilted just so, and I pour myself into her as I come. Wave after wave, buried to the hilt, I let out the most strangled moan that’s ever left my lips.
When I finally go still, when the last tremor passes through me, I don’t move. Can’t move. I’m still holding her hips, still buried inside her, still trying to remember how to breathe. Then I realize what I’ve done.
Not only was I rough, but I didn’t even think to ask her how she’d feel if I…
Blinking, I look down at her glossy state and see she’s beaming. Not just like any smile I’ve seen her radiate with, but something far happier. Hardly giving me the chance to ask her if she’s okay, she’s already reaching out to pull me toward her chest.
Still locked deep inside her, I crash down like a tumbling building. Barely avoiding crushing her, I nudge her throat and confess the truth.
“I don’t want to leave. I just want to stay here for a little while.” Deep inside her wet heat, where it feels the best.
Another laugh leaves her as she wraps her arms around me. Stroking the little hairs on the back of my neck, she wiggles her hips and clenches around me. “It’s a good thing I don’t wantyou to leave, either. But please, tell me you can still move.” Her breath tickles my skin and raises goosebumps against my skin. “I think I want more.”
Oh, this woman is going to put me through the wringer to make sure I can keep up with her. But I’ll do it. Even if it takes days or weeks, or even months, I’ll learn. Hell, I’ve got my whole life with her to sort out the fine details.
Not wanting to get ahead of myself by thinking of the future, I roll my hips and decide that from this point forward, I’m just going to enjoy every minute as it goes by. One at a time. Right here with her. My future wife.
9
Tatum
Epilogue
The hike up to our favorite spot is brutal. Jasmine complains for the last half-mile, her little legs giving out every few steps, so Abel carries her on his shoulders for the final stretch. I pretend to grumble about it, about her taking all of his attention for herself, but the truth is, watching them together undoes me every single time.
His large hands are steadying her tiny body. Her fingers are tangled in his hair. The way she giggles when he pretends to lose his balance. It’s the perfect picture.
