Page 84 of 10 Signs You Need to Grovel

Translation: Don’t you lose it. Don’t you fucking break. Don’t you dare last half a fucking second.

When her tongue flicks out over the swollen tip, I almost black out. “Sadie.”

It’s the only word I can utter. My thighs are on fire, my ass clenched so hard I’m sure I’ll pull a muscle. I lean heavier into my palms. She stretches her pink lips wide, taking in the head of my cock, her hum of pleasure shredding what’s left of my self-control. I mean, I never stood a chance. The intoxicating rush of having her here, with me, is the only foreplay I need: her excitement to see me naked, the absolute hunger in her fiery eyes. The second she takes me deep, heat blasts up my rigid spine. I’m groaning and shaking and coming so fucking hard, keeping my sounds quiet, but there’s nothing quiet about my hammering heart.

She makes a satisfied sound. “That was a record.”

“Let us never discuss this again.”

She laughs and helps me out of my jeans. As soon as my feet are free, I pull her up, holding her tight against me, kissing her hard, tasting myself on her tongue. Some life returns to my spent cock. Enough that I’m kind of thankful she went with the blow job first. I have time to explore her at my leisure now, getting us both ready, so when I do sink into her, I won’t have another ten-second embarrassment.

I undo her bra clasp, slip the straps from her shoulders. The red lace drops, and I finally stand back and look. Breathe through the desire and reverence burning through me as I stare at this gorgeous woman.

“Des.” She reaches for me. “I need to feel you.”

Not a tough ask. I close the distance between us, crush her to me, trace the outer swells of her breasts, getting off on the softness of her pressed to my hard chest. She moans and explores the muscles of my back, her hummingbird heart beating rapidly against me.

“You feel so good,” I whisper as I coast my hands down her silk-soft skin.

She digs her fingers into my spine, a place she seems to like, then traces the line to my ass. “Let’s be naked together.”

I chuckle, shaking us both. “Let’s.”

I carry her to the bed and lay her out, taking my time with her sweatpants and socks. When I discover a pair of red lace panties, I lift the edge and let it snap back in place. “Were you hoping I’d see these?”

She gives me sexy eyes. “Were you hoping I’d discover your lack of briefs?”

“One hundred percent.” Instead of removing the sexy lingerie, I cage her legs with my knees. Kiss her elegant neck, the freckles on her slender shoulder, moving to her gorgeous breasts. They’re larger than I recall, lush and soft, and I can’t get enough of these pert nipples. Except I need more. All of her. Endless nights like this, being hungry and thorough but quiet for our son. Cooking for her. Cleaning for her. Taking care of her, so she can be the best version of herself. The art curator and mother and lover she was meant to be.

She writhes under me, her fingers making a mess of my hair as she releases tiny ah sounds—music to my ears. I kiss my way down her belly, loving her softer lines, taking extra long nosing the clover-shaped birthmark on her hip.

“I missed this,” I murmur against her skin.

“I missed you.” More than desire infuses her whispered words. “So much.”

I press my forehead to her abdomen, squeezing her hips with my fingers, trying to imprint myself on her. “I never stopped loving you,” I say.

Her breath hitches.

I look up. “Every day. Every minute. I love you, Sadie. With or without Max, you’re the only one for me.”

A tear slips from the corner of her eye. She doesn’t tell me she loves me back, just dashes the tear away. But I know Sadie Jones. The affection in her gaze, the trembling of her hands in my hair, her desperation when dropping to her knees before—she loves me too. She’s just too scared to say the words. Worried for Max and probably for herself. Having me ripped out of her life has left its scars.

I don’t dwell on her silence. I get back to work, teasing her around this sinful red lace. Feather-soft kisses. Tantalizing licks. When I blow air over all that damp fabric, her pelvis jerks and she swears. “Stop teasing.”

I nip her inner thigh. “It’s too much fun.”

“Des.” She drags her nails along my scalp.

Sparks shoot across my skin. “Yeah, honey?” I press my mouth against her lace panties and flick my tongue.

She moans and gives my hair a harder tug.

Message received. I peel off her underwear and give her a hungry lick. Her enraptured “Yes” is a priceless gift. As is her heady musk and how wet she is. The way she spreads her thighs for me and thrusts her hips up, begging for more. I don’t hold back. I flick and suck and work her over until her heels are digging hard into the mattress, her hands clutching the sheets as she shakes and jerks, the tiniest sounds vibrating from her.

She goes boneless, sighing and smiling a satisfied smile. “That was wow.”

“We haven’t reached wow yet.” I’m hard again, my dick thick and flushed and ready. I give my shaft a couple of rough strokes while she watches—Sadie always liked watching me touch myself—then I look for my jeans. Earlier, I may have ejaculated as fast as a twelve-year-old watching his first porno, but I at least came prepared with a condom tonight.