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Kneeling between my legs, he gazes at me. “Have I ever told you that you’re the most beautiful woman in the world? I’ve never seen anything more breathtaking than you right now.”
And I believe him, because I’ve never felt as beautiful or as loved as I’m feeling right now. It’s the intensity in his gaze, the gentle way of his touch. It’s the way his heart beats for me.
Lowering his body down, his mouth moves to my breasts. He glides his tongue over my nipple, then closes his mouth over it, sucking it. Then, he repeats the process with the other nipple. I grasp the bed covers as the fire builds between my legs ignites.
His tongue traces a trail that begins on my chest and stops right above my pelvis, making my hips buck urgently. Then, he continues kissing his way down my body. I inhale sharply the moment his mouth closes over my clit. His tongue lashes against it and then he pushes two fingers inside me. My back arches at the same time I cry out his name.
“Stay still, let me taste your pretty pussy,” Brahms orders gruffly. His mouth works me relentlessly, licking and sucking until I’m mindless with need, which drags another loud throaty moan from my lips.
“Please, I’m so close,” I finally beg desperately.
I’m so hot and needy for him. So fucking desperate and he doesn’t move. I want to thrust my hips, make myself come by riding his mouth. Frustration bubbles up as he continues to tease me with his breath, holding back what I need most—him making the ache go away.
“Brahms, please. Please fuck me,” I find myself begging for mercy.
And thankfully, he runs his tongue along my slit.
Finally, he’s giving me what I want—what I need.
His mouth, his teeth, his fingers thrusting hard, fast, drawing me toward a climax that promises to shatter me, breaking me into pieces and putting me back together.
He’s taking me high.
High.
High.
Until my world narrows and I begin to spiral out of control—until I’m undone.
“Brahms.” He devours me, sending me to the stratosphere. I’m tugging his hair, rocking my hips against him until a powerful orgasm rips through my body.
“Sephie,” he breathes out. I pull him closer. He comes to me without protest. His eyes looking into mine. Not sure what he’s searching for, but I feel completely exposed, bare and vulnerable.
“I don’t want anything between us,” he admits, voice shaking with raw emotion. “No boundaries. I want to take you—take everything. But do you want me to use protection?”
My fingers lace around the nape of his neck, drawing him closer. Without words, I answer him with a fervent kiss. As our lips lock, he pushes himself forward, bridging the gap between us. Filling me with his thick length, completing me.
“This . . .” he groans, pulling away slightly, only to plunge back deeper inside me. “Feels unbelievable.” Our gazes lock, our connection strengthening. This moment is so fucking precious. Him and me. Me and him—us. Finally together.
“So fucking perfect,” Brahms rasps, his thrusts are slow, deep. He pulls out the same way, then pushes himself back in even deeper, his pelvis grinding against my tight bud. Every time he slides back in, I shudder with pleasure. As my body heats, our bodies move faster. My hips meet his with each thrust, my body aching for the release. I clench around him as my peak builds again, and his strokes grow urgent, desperate.
With one final deep thrust, I shatter again, distantly hearing Brahms follow with a guttural cry. As we float back down, he collapses on top of me.
“I love you,” I whisper, stroking his hair. He smiles, pressing his ear over my racing heart.
“I love you too, Sephie.”
As we catch our breaths, he nestles closer, and I can feel it—the rhythmic beat of our hearts, in sync. He rests his head on my chest, whispering, “Hear that? It’s like our hearts have become one again.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Brahms
I couldn’t sleep all night. For the first hour, I watched Seraphina sleep in my arms. She’s finally by my side. For the next hour, I wondered when I’d wake up from the best dream I’ve ever had in my entire life. That’s when she woke up, and we made love a second time. That’s when I knew she was real, and she was mine.
As she drifted off again, I stayed awake thinking about our future. I wondered when I could ask her to marry me, move in together, and truly become a family. I know I promised we’d go slow, but could we pick up the pace now? Leaving my family every night feels all kinds of wrong.
“Morning,” I murmur when her eyes flutter open.
