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My breathing hitches when he moves his hand up my thigh and under my shirt. His warm palm travels over my stomach and up to my breast. His thumb brushes over my nipple, and my back arches off the mattress.
“Because you’re mine.” His hoodie and T-shirt come off next, and a heap of clothes forms on the floor near my bed. He presses a kiss to my knee, and I let out a soft moan. “I know what you want. What you like. I know what makes you happy. I know that this…” he runs his fingers down the front of my underwear and shoves the fabric aside. “This turns you on. Look how wet you are for me.”
“Fuck me, Shawn,” I whisper. I hook my fingers in the waistband of my underwear and pull them down my legs. I toss the cotton away and take off my shirt. “This time, I’m really yours.”
“You’ve always been mine. You were mine from the first time I saw you. The first time I kissed you. The first time I sank inside you,” he says, low and rough in my ear.
He kicks off his boots and slides his pants down to his ankles. He steps out of his jeans and nudges them away. His briefs come next, and soon he’s naked, too.
It feels different from before; slower. More tender as he kisses every inch of my body.
My neck. My chest. The spot on my stomach just below my belly button. My hip bone and the small scar on my right knee. He claims all of me, leaving no spot untouched until I’m twisting on the sheets and panting his name.
“Shawn,” I say. “I need you.”
His laugh is sweet like honey, and he slips two fingers inside me. I can’t even get a groan out before his mouth is on mine, his tongue silky and smooth as he swallows down whatever noise I try to make. “Are you going to come for me, Lacey girl?” he asks, and fireworks explode in my blood.
He bites my bottom lip, his teeth sinking into the skin. His question ricochets down my body, and I wrap my arms tightly around his neck.
When he presses his thumb against me and starts a slow and cruel circle, I tip over the edge, stars in my vision and my limbs heavy against the mattress. It’s explosive. It’s electric. It’s the best it’s ever felt. A cry slips out of my mouth and he takes that, too, again and again until I push him flat on his back and straddle his legs.
I curl my hand around his length, and he’s hard and warm in my hand. I stroke up and down, his skin slick and my name tumbling from his mouth. His large palm folds over mine, and he guides himself to my entrance.
We gasp in unison when he pushes into me, and I rock forward, needing him deeper. I want to feel him everywhere.
“You were made for me,” he says into the valley of my chest, his hand cupping my breast and his tongue circling my nipple. His hips lift, and there’s no more space between us.
I look to where we’re joined, and my breath catches in the back of my throat. “I love you,” I say. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Lacey girl,” he says. He drags his gaze up to meet mine, and he stares at me with adoration in his eyes.
“Show me,” I whisper, and he does.
Over and over again until the moon turns into the sun and the starry night gives way to morning.
FORTY-SEVEN
SHAWN
I wakeup to Lacey’s arm around my waist and her hair in my face.
It’s exactly how we spent the nights at my parents’ house, our bodies wrapped around each other, and it feels like we never left.
Fuck,she’s pretty in the morning with her swollen lips and the hickeys on her chest. I kiss her forehead and cheek, not wanting to wake her up, but I have to get on a plane and I’m not leaving her without saying goodbye.
Her eyes flutter open, heavy-lidded and still half-asleep, and I smile down at her.
“Good morning,” she says, her voice thick with exhaustion.
“Morning, sweetheart,” I say.
I hook my fingers around her chin and bring her mouth to mine. She sighs against my lips, and I roll myself on top of her.
“I could get used to waking up like this.” She drapes her arms around my neck and loops her legs around my waist. “A tattooed man looking at me like he wants to devour me? Who could complain?”
“I love you.” I dip my chin and kiss the top of her chest, the space directly above her heart. I want my words to sit there so she’ll never doubt them. “I love you, Lacey.”
“I didn’t dream it?” she asks, and a smile pokes through the question.
