Like she doesn’t believe me.
“You are,” I say roughly. “Jesus, London.”
Her fingers slide into my hair just as I kiss the soft curve of her stomach.
Then lower.
And lower.
Until I find the spot I know will fill her with the pleasure she deserves.
Every touch makes her softer beneath me. Less guarded. Like she’s slowly forgetting how to brace herself against disappointment.
And maybe that’s what finally wrecks me completely.
Not just wanting her.
Knowing someone made her feel unwanted before this.
I worship every inch of her like I can erase those feelings with my fingers and lips.
Her thighs. Her hips. The soft curve of her waist.
Every shaky sound she makes only drives me further out of my damn mind.
When I find her clit with my tongue, her hips buck up from the bed. Her fingers slide into my hair, urging me on. Holding me close as I make her fall apart, screaming my name.
By the time I drag my mouth back up her body, London is flushed and breathless beneath me. Her fingers dig into my back as her eyelids flash open.
“You look at me like I’m…” She swallows hard. “Like I’m something special.”
I press my forehead against hers. “You are something special.”
And this woman still has no idea who she is and what she does to me.
SEVEN
LONDON
No one has ever looked at me the way Troy does.
No one has ever made me feel… so much. The realization leaves me dizzy.
“Troy,” I whisper again, because his name feels different.
His gaze lifts from where he’s kissing slow paths along my stomach, dark eyes heavy with heat.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
My entire body melts.
I slide my fingers into his hair and tug him back up toward me, kissing him before I can overthink things.
Troy makes a rough sound low in his throat that sends warmth spiraling through me instantly. Then I push gently against his shoulders.
He stills immediately. Watching me carefully.
