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Thirty-Three
The silencethat followed my statement was thick and heavy with all the possibilities that came with my admission. I dropped my hand and whatever paralysis had held him in place snapped. He spun around and took my face between his hands, his expression hot and searching, desperate.
“Do you mean it?” he asked, his voice low. “It’s okay if you don’t, if you thought you should say it just because I did–”
I put my fingers on his lips. “I meant it. I mean it. I want to fight for us, see whatever this is between us can become.” I put my hand on his chest and felt the steady beat of his heart against my palm. “I want this to become something.”
His mouth came down on mine, softer, gentler than it had ever been before. A hand slid up into my wet hair, tangling in the locks that nearly brushed my shoulders. I waited for the pull, the pain against my scalp, and anticipation pooled in my belly, hot liquid arousal. It didn’t come. His touch remained tender.
I slid my hands under his shirt, and his muscles jumped under my fingers. I scraped my teeth across his bottom lip, bit it, and he moaned. His grip tightened, just a little, but I could feel it now, all the strength that he was holding back, all the power in that strong, muscular body of his, waiting to be released.
“I want you.” He breathed the words against my skin as his mouth moved to the side of my mouth, to my jaw. “Damn, Rona, I want you so much.”
“Then take me.” I tucked my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled him tighter against me. “I’ve missed you.”
He groaned, his forehead resting against mine. “Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to resist you?”
“Then don’t.”
“I have to,” he insisted, his eyes scanning my features. “You’re hurt.”
I laughed softly. “I was hurt the first time we had sex, if you remember.”
“I remember,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I remember how it felt, being inside you that first time. How it was like being…home.”
I closed my eyes and whispered, “It was like that for me too.”
His laugh vibrated through me. “You’re really not making this easy for me.”
“Good.” I slid my hands around to his ass and dug my nails in. “Because I want it to be hard.”
He leaned back as he laughed again, louder this time. “Seriously? You’re making sex puns?”
I shrugged and grinned at him. “It seemed appropriate.”
He wrapped his arms around me, resting his hands at the small of my back. “You should get some sleep.”
“It’s three o’clock in the afternoon,” I said. “I don’t want to sleep. Do you want to sleep?”
“I told you what I want,” he said, his expression sobering. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re hurt.”
“It’s too bad,” I said as I took a step back. I smiled up at him as I reached down to grab the bottom of his shirt. “Because that means I’ll just have to lay down on that nice comfy bed and make myself feel better.”
His eyes went dark, the sort of dark that twisted things inside me. “And how, exactly, are you planning to do that?”
I wet my bottom lip, even more aware than before of what I wasn’t wearing under his clothes. “Do you want details?” I smiled as I stepped back until my legs bumped against the bed. “Like how I’d take off my shirt and run my hands over my breasts? How I’d play with my nipples until they’re tight and aching. Slide my hand under these sweats and rub my fingers over my clit, feel how wet I am–”
Everything else I’d planned on saying was cut off when Jalen buried his hands in my hair and his mouth crashed into mine. The hesitation was gone, replaced by the same desperate need I felt clawing at my insides.
Our clothes hit the floor as we scrambled out of them, forgotten the moment they left our hands. His skin was hot, hands burning paths across my limbs, my torso. I gasped, back arching as his lips wrapped around my nipple.
“That feels amazing,” I moaned, closing my eyes.
Every pull of his mouth went straight to my clit, and I writhed under the heavy weight of his body. Skin and muscle, friction and pressure. Our bodies moved against each other, slick and sweet, a dance that we’d known from the first moment we’d come together.
He worked his way up to my collarbone, sucking and biting as he murmured words, endearments. Some of them I could make out, some I couldn’t, but it didn’t matter. I knew how he felt, I could feel how much he wanted me. His fingers played over my ribcage, then he palmed my hip, my ass, and then pulled my leg up and around his waist.
He raised his head, his eyes locking with mine. The depth of what I saw there took my breath away, and then he was sliding into me.
