Page 188 of The American


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My eyes drop like rocks to the carpet, darting. “The woman I saw leave,” I say quietly.

“I sent her away.”

His bare feet appear in my downcast vision, and I allow my eyes to creep up his naked legs and chest. He looks so . . . contrite. “I called a few women,” he says, his voice thick. “But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want them.”

“But—” I want to believe him. Desperately. “Her hands were full of money.”

“Her pimp would have something to say if I didn’t compensate her for wasting her time.” He reaches for me, but I retreat, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “I made the arrangements. I sent the first woman away. I didn’t cancel the others.”

Why? In case he changed his mind?

He holds his hands out. “These hands. I don’t want them to touch any other woman ever again.”

My head’s a mess. It was nothing. That’s what he called us. Nothing. “You said we were nothing.”

“You will never be nothing.” He reaches for me again, but I lean back. “Please believe me. I only want you, Pearl. Forever, only you.”

Forever?

“Forever is a really long time.”

He nods, stepping closer, and this time I don’t stop him. He gently takes my bag from my chest and dips, placing it on the floor. I look up at him, holding my breath as he scans every tiny bit of my face, watching his fingers as they brush my hair back. And then his gaze falls onto my mouth, and he slowly brings his lips down to meet mine. The moment they touch, I jolt, as if life has just been injected back into me, my heart kick-starting. I open up to him and accept his soft tongue. His kiss is reverent. Slow. Tender.

Loving?

My hands go to the back of his head, my fingers in his hair, and he picks me up, walking me out of the bathroom across the suite as our mouths indulge, a familiar heaviness falling between my legs. Throbbing. The bed he lays me on is freshly made. No strewn sheets. He blankets me, his tall, built body cocooning me, his arousal throbbing against my leg. And he kisses me, bites my lip, I bite his, he pecks, I peck, and then he plunges deep, hands everywhere.

He tears his mouth away and sits back on his heels, pulling me up to sit. My arms lift to help him get my shirt off, and I’m wriggling out of my shorts quickly after. He tosses them aside and reaches behind me to unhook my bra, his mouth on my neck and shoulder, the tingles becoming too much. I drop to my back the second he’s rid me of my bra, lifting my arse to let him get my knickers down.

I watch with bated breath as he gets off the bed and pushes his boxers down his thighs, kicking them off before grabbing my ankle and yanking me to the bottom of the bed. He falls to his knees and puts his mouth on my sex, and my spine snaps into an arch, my fingers clawing into the sheets and bunching them, as he kisses me between my legs like he’s just kissed my mouth. Deeply. My hips grind up into him, his forearm lying across my stomach to keep me from bucking. I’m on the cusp immediately, and the constant cries of pleasure tell him so.

“Too soon,” he rumbles, releasing me from the wicked talents of his mouth.

I cry out and grab his biceps, pulling him down onto my body, taking his mouth urgently. He rolls us, holding me to his front, his fingers clawing into my bottom, his hardness pulsing against me, teasing me. I feel and yank at his hair as he rolls us again, caging me beneath him, kissing down to my breasts, swirling his tongue around each nipple, his hand stroking down my body and dragging through my wetness. I throw my head back, insane with pleasure. I feel like I’m permanently tinkering on the edge of that inconceivably incredible fall.

And he’s not even inside me.

Just kissing. Mouths and body.

I stretch my arms above my head, rolling my chest up onto his mouth, closing my eyes and exhaling, feeling peace crawl across my skin with every kiss he places on me. Goosebumps invade every inch of me, my smile small as I writhe beneath him, listening to his pleasure from pleasuring me.

He crawls up farther, breathes into my neck, and I bring my arms down, holding him for a short time before he pulls away and sits on his heels, helping me up onto his lap. He holds me by my nape, kisses me, then lifts me, positioning himself at my entrance, and kisses me again as I slowly sink onto him, filling my lungs as I do until I’m full of him and exhaling, remaining still for a minute, getting used to him inside me, my face in his neck. He’s patient, still, his hands stroking across my back softly, his mouth kissing my shoulder.

I tell him I’m ready with one brief peck beneath his ear, and he encourages me out of his neck, slipping an arm around my waist, his other holding the outside of my thigh. I lock my ankles around his lower back, my arms around his neck, and begin to move on his lap. His chest concaves, his jaw ticks, his eyes never leaving mine. I circle, tense, feeling him the deepest I ever have. But it doesn’t hurt. It just feels . . . right.

I move in to kiss him, but he turns away from it, shaking his head. Then realigns his eyes on mine, and my heart bucks, feeling a beautifully poignant shift between us as we watch each other, connected so deeply, so intimately, his moves helping mine, my pleasure pushing his. I’ve never been looked at so closely before. He stifles a moan as I whimper, gripping every muscle around him, and he stills for a moment, takes a breather, as do I, before he slowly guides me back up and lazily rotates, plunging deeply. Eyes fixed on me.

I’m mindless on pleasure, totally swallowed up by him. I want to kiss him, but I want to watch him more. How he’s looking at me now. How he’s guiding me on his lap, controlling our pleasure, unhurriedly working his way in and out of me, steadily building us both up.

I start to wobble on the edge of release, sharp bursts of air escaping as I try and hold myself back. Brad maintains the tempo, and I begin to shake with the effort to not let go. Then he raises to his knees, holding me under my arse, and I know I’ll never resist the ecstasy. I cry out, grappling at his neck, watching as his eyes smoke. And then he kisses me, and I surrender to the pull, letting it take me, his drives carrying us both to the finish line.

I fall off the edge with a relieved exhale, shaking around him, my arms and legs aching, and he bucks, grunts, and breaks our kiss, panting into my shoulder on a quiet curse as he spills himself into me. I absorb the throbs of his cock, laying my head on my arms around his neck, staring across the room.

Dazed.

“My love,” he whispers, kissing my shoulder. “Forever.”

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