“Yes.” Because I do. The man in front of me may represent the biggest agony in my life, but he also represents a past I’ve never recovered from. Helpless, I admit I’ve missed the connection. Missed the completeness I feel with only Brennan that’s been missing from my other partners. For one night—hell, for one hour—I need that connection back.
Then, maybe, I can let it, and him, go.
Control snapping, he leans down and captures one of my nipples in his mouth. Sucking deeply, I feel him rolling my nipple with his tongue.
Tunneling my fingers into his hair, I hold him against my breast. That’s when I feel the light bite at the tip and pant, “More.”
“As you wish.” He switches to give attention to my other breast. His other hand drops down to my pussy. Instead of staying there, he gathers up my juices and rubs it over my exposed nipple before leaning in to taste it.
Then, he does this again all while bracing my body against the wall in my entryway.
Damn him for remembering my body so well. For doling out better sex than I’ve had in years. No, Brennan has the skills to make my body remember every single moment of our past intimacy.
All too well.
I’m already on a knife’s edge of an orgasm simply from the foreplay.
Leaving my breasts, he kisses his way up my chest. Notching his head into the curve of my shoulder and neck. I hear the change in his breath. “I need you, Amy.”
Finally. “I’m ready.”
He reaches into his jeans for his wallet. Flipping it open, he whips out a condom. Another piece of the Amy I used to be dies at the sight. Brennan and I dispensed with using condoms the second year into our relationship—knowing we were going to be together forever.
Who knew forever had a time limit.
My thighs tighten around him as he makes quick work of undoing his belt buckle, unsnapping his jeans, before shucking them along with his boxers.
Self-preservation is shouting warnings at me even as need urges me forward. I ignore both of them and focus solely on what Brennan’s making me feel. Our past, temporarily
forgotten and I can’t think about the future.
All I want is now.
The condom he’s been crushing in his hand since he pulled it out makes a quick appearance between his teeth. Lifting onehand away from me, he makes quick work of sheathing himself. Lining himself up, he peppers gentle kisses along my jawline. When he reaches my earlobe, he murmurs, “Are you ready for me to come home?”
Startled, I rear back as he pushes himself inside me in one swift motion. I gasp at the invasion because Brennan’s not a small man but I’m still stuck on the word he used.
Home.
How could he possibly think one act of intimacy will fix what he broke between us? I’m not certain if my body is communicating that message or if he stills to give me a chance to adjust to his girth. Either way, he holds himself steady for a while.
That’s when I feel the thundering of his heart against my exposed chest. I lick my lips before ordering him, “Move.”
He pulls back before pushing forward again in one swift thrust. Soon, he finds a rhythm that has my inner walls clenching tightly around him. Panting heavily, I moan, “God, make me come.”
He thrusts harder. Faster.
I can’t think beyond the feeling of having Brennan thrusting back inside of me. When I lost him, nothing could fill the deepest crevices of my heart. Now, those dark places spark when he buries his head against my neck—breath ragged.
My thighs quiver as he hooks my legs over his arms. That’s when he touches my core, each movement more intense than the last.
His jaw is granite against the side of my face as he gives me more.
I search for his lips again, demanding a taste. On some level, I know this is more than just sex. It’s a deeper connection that’s lain dormant for far too long. I just can’t let myself go there.
Not yet. Maybe not ever.
He counters each thrust of my tongue with a forward snap of his hips. Urgent but tender. He thrusts harder. Faster.
