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Gentle fingers curl in my hair, press under my chin and tip it up. Soft lips brush my own but don’t move any further.
“I’ll be your family, Shiloh. You won’t break me.”
I’m the one who surges forward. Who wraps my arms around his neck and drags his body to mine. Who kisses his mouth with an urgency beyond any manic episode.
It’s a pure, uncontrollable need.
“You love me?” I break off the kiss with a gulp of air, with my heart hammering into my ribs.
“I do.” He presses his lips to the tip of my nose, and the sincerity of it tips my control over the edge.
I take a step back. And then another. Until my back hits the wall. I drop a hand to the hem of Corvin’s shirt and use the other to guide one of his to rest loosely around my throat.
“Sweetheart?”
God, I love it when he calls me that.
It’s mine. It’s the signal that I’m his.
Oh, god. I’m his.
“Make love to me.” My voice doesn’t just crack, it shatters. “Please.”
Chapter 27
Corvin
The house is quiet, and we only let ourselves in with the key a few minutes ago because Shiloh doesn’t want to do this in the morning with the children bustling about.
He hopped up on the counter the moment I shut the bathroom door, setting his palm sized medical bag beside him and rucking his shirt up his chest.
I get lost with my hands on his body, and his eyes close as he leans into every little touch. He takes the kiss I offer with open mouthed enthusiasm, whimpering when I leave his lips and body bare to wash my hands in the sink.
Shiloh has always handled this himself without issue, but when he rolled over on our cots and whispered for me to bring him inside and help him, I got the feeling this means something more than just a shot.
I follow the process I’ve seen him go through every week: sticking the needle in the vial, drawing up his dose, and switching out the drawing needle for the injecting one. All the while, his eyes are on me, following my hands and searching my face.
When I pinch the skin of his stomach, he sucks in a breath and grips the counter with his fingertips. The needle goes in, the plunger goes down, and then it’s out, capped, and zipped away in the bag it came from.
A trickle of blood comes from the injection site, but Shiloh licks his finger and wipes it away, leaning over to rinse his hand under the water and shaking it dry.
I put myself between his open thighs, and he hooks an arm over my shoulder without prompt.
“You know,” I say, placing both hands on his waist and pressing down until he groans. “Your probation is almost over. Once your drug test clears, you’re a free man.”
Free to move out and into his own room. Free to find relief with whoever he desires.
He swallows slowly with his eyes locked on mine, and I want to trace the bulge in his throat as it goes down.
“Only because you kept me in line.” There’s no sign of his usual snark, just a breathless resignation.
He knows as well as I do that the excuse for our arrangement is finished.
Whatever decisions we make from here on out are entirely on us.
“Well that’s not a hardship, sweetheart.” I graze my hand up his chest, tracing the scars and rolling his nipples under my thumbs.
He arches back, and it’s too tempting to lean down and lick a clean stripe up the column of his neck, to suck his pulse point until he throws a hand down to stroke his t-dick.
