“Eli,” Rowan starts, his own hands falling hesitantly to rest over my hips. Minimal pressure, as if he’s scared I’ll break beneath the weight of them—the weight of his own affection and desire.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, because it is. I’ve decided everything will be okay now. It was always this easy; I just didn’t know it.
“Yes,” he replies, his lips brushing the words against my forehead as if he’s trying to force them inside of me. As if he’s trying to make me remember, to remind me who he is and what we could have.
Those large hands of his trace up my sides and to my back, finding their way under my t-shirt. I shiver against him, soaking in the feel of his skin against mine.
So good, so right. Home, home, home.
“Rowan,” I whisper, pulling my forehead from his mouth and staring into those lovely green eyes. “I’m scared.”
The confession leaves me before I can grab hold of it; it escapes before I can tear it apart and digest it, keeping it fully hidden from the light of day. From him.
Rowan’s expression softens.
“I’ve got you, baby. Come here.” He tightens his hold on my body, pulling me flush against his. I can feel the pounding of his heart through his hoodie, and I can hear the unsteady way his breathing is stuttering out of him.
I wonder if he knows. I wonder if he can smell it on me—what it is I’m so scared of. If he understands that it’shimwho terrifies me.
“What do you want? What can I do for you?” Rowan leans down, never pulling his arms from where they’re wrapped around me as he shoves his face into my neck.
I believe I’m comforting him just as much as he’s comforting me, and I’m not even lifting a finger.
“Show me,” I say, running a hand through the silky texture of his curls. “Show me how much you’ve missed me. Make me cry.”
Rowan groans into me, the wet heat of his exhale raising goosebumps all over my skin.“You’re sure? I don’t want you to think I’m only here for—”
“I don’t. I want… I need to feel connected to you.” My voice is small, and it’s the first time I’ve ever heard myself sound so dependent on another.
Rowan leans back up to his full height, and he removes a hand from where it’s wrapped around me to cup my jaw.
Then, he brings his mouth to mine.
Pure euphoria shoots throughout my entire body; I can feel himeverywhere. My skin begins to sing for him, vibrating in his hold as I drown in his touch. I’m not able to anticipate his next movement; I’m unable to focus beyond this current pleasure.
So when his tongue slips into my mouth and rubs along mine, I jolt in his hold, a loud whine escaping from my throat and forcing its way down his.
Rowan eats it up, the way he’s done every time before. And it feels familiar, it feels as it should. I’m startled to think that I ever could have imagined a future in which I did not have this. In which I did not have him.
I think that if I were to see him in the arms of another, I would surely grow violent.
“Sweet, sweet angel,” Rowan murmurs against my lips. “You taste so good. Tell me—has anyone else tasted you since you left me?”
We are on the same page, it seems.
“No, of course not,” I say it as if it’s obvious that I’ve always been his. Like he should have known from the moment we locked eyes that no one else would ever touch me again.
“Not even Bennett?”
I freeze in his hold, but my eyes stay clenched shut.Bennett? What happened there?
“Not even Bennett,” I confirm, because he has not touched me.
And although I might have let him at one point, he will not succeed in doing so now.
Rowan sighs in what sounds like relief, the hand still wrapped around my back finding its way to where my dimples sit. Hisfingers sink into them without hesitation, causing my hips to jerk forward and into his.
“Good boy, Elijah,” Rowan praises, and although I normally prefer to be on the giving end of that role, I find myself purring at his words. I tuck myself tighter against him.
