“Neither have I.” My voice breaks as I say the words, but I feel put back together again when he presses his lips to mine once more, and with such beautiful force. It’s demanding and safe all at the same time, and it has me needing him just as urgently in other ways.
Butterflies run rampant in my stomach. I’ve never been someone’s. Not in a romantic sense. I pushed that idea out of my head early on in motherhood, accepting that it was just another thing in life that I’d miss out on. Never truly letting myself accept the weight of that disappointment because it was a sacrifice I willingly made to keep Aurora safe, and to give myself the chance I deserved at a better life.
I got out of a house that I never felt safe in, felt loved in, but I got out with my love for a child who needed me. For the first time, I felt like I had the power to make a difference, to do something good. The further I ran from that life, and the older Aurora got, I started to feel that love back from her. We became each other’s one and only, and that alone had me feeling like I could never really miss out on anything. Then I met Westley.
Not once in the weeks we’ve known each other have I felt ready for the onrush of feelings he evokes in me. Even though I’m unsure of what the future looks like, I don’t feel scared. Not about him. In fact, if anything, I feel stronger. My dad may be out of jail, but that doesn’t mean I have to continue to cower. I can stand up and fight for the peace I’ve worked so hard to find. Maybe I was always meant to run, just so I could one day end up here.
I cup his strong jaw in my hands, running my fingers through the thick scruff. “Bedroom.”
Westley leans in, pausing just before he meets my lips. “Aurora?”
“Fast asleep.” I swallow. “I checked her before I messaged you.”
West spins on his heel and slowly walks up my stairs, still carrying my trembling body in his arms.
His eyes stay on mine as he moves through my house, following the hallway around once he reaches the top of the stairs, and finds my open bedroom door.
He closes it, flicking the lock behind him. Every move makes my pulse spike, anticipation closing in as the moment becomes so inescapably real.
West lays me down on the bed. As he pulls his arms away, he tucks his hands under the waistband of my shorts and eases them off my legs, tossing them behind him.
His large palms skate up my torso, dipping under my T-shirt and taking the fabric with them as he goes. I arch my back and lift my arms to help him remove it, leaving me completely naked. My instincts tell me to cover up, suddenly protective of the last piece of me left to give him. The part that no one’s ever had. My heart. I take a deep breath as I keep my arms pinned to my side, fingers twisting in the bed sheets as Westley stares at me reverently.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Tears build in the corners of my eyes, and my body turns agitated, desperate to have him closer. My mind acknowledges how different it is to crave him near when, in the past, this level of vulnerability would have had me wanting to flee.
I reach up, beckoning him to me. He takes my hand in his and brings my knuckles to his lips, leaving a kiss there before his hands go behind his neck, and he pulls his shirt over his head.
My room is filled with the soft light from the bedside lamps. It’s enough to perfectly showcase his broad chest, dusted in fine hair. My eyes fight to take in every part of him—his rounded shoulders, the tattoo on his ribs, his thick, corded forearms.The veins seem to pop, catching in the light as his hands move to his grey sweatpants. An enticing trail of hair leads into the waistband, directing my eyes down to the prominent outline of his cock, bulging beneath the fabric.
A rushed breath escapes me at the thought of being filled by Westley. Being intimate with him over the weekend was a whole other kind of power. It was a full-body experience. Every touch of his mouth and hands felt as though it was seeping through my skin and coursing through my veins. He would forever be a mark upon my soul. He reset the course, he changed the stars.
Westley pushes his sweats down, letting his cock spring free. I start to sit up, pushing from my elbows, needing my mouth on him with such urgency, it’s like I’m starved.
“Uh-uh.” He brings his hands up, instructing me to stop with a shake of his head. “You know what I need, baby.” He drops to his knees at the foot of the bed, a hand on each of my ankles. “Spread them for me.”
My pussy practically convulses at the sight of him between my legs, his green eyes dark with lust as he stares up at me. I slowly spread my thighs, and he pins me with his gaze as he spits on my pussy.
“Oh god.” I shiver as I sink into the mattress.
Fingertips run up my ankle and inside my thigh, soft and sweet, followed by a sharp tap against my clit.
I gasp as my head snaps up. Westley’s mouth hovers right above where I need him.
“Eyes on me, pretty girl. I want you to watch as I make this pussy mine.”
There’s a dominance to Westley when it’s just the two of us, something I’m secretly hoping he’s never been like with anyone else. It inspires my own confidence to come out and play, the empowerment turning me into someone I didn’t know I could be, but I’m starting to love.
I sit up and run my fingers through his hair, giving the strands a slight tug. “Give it your best shot, Thief. Show me you deserve it.”
With a deliberate, measured pace, he sticks out his tongue and circles it at my entrance before sweeping up to my clit. I groan my approval, but never let my eyes stray as he sets about to prove his point, unequivocally owning me in the process.
My hips rock up to meet him, riding against his face as his tongue moves up and down. He takes his time as if memorising every moment. My breathing changes, my body trembles, and my eyes go a little unfocused.
His hands run over my thighs, and when he gets to my knees, he pushes down, pinning me against the mattress and opening me up even further. Every touch consumes me. It feels so sensual, so delicately wrapped with intent. This is nothing like what I’ve had before. This is a promise of more.
Westley’s tongue and mouth explore with unhurried adoration, working me until I’m wound up so tight, I think I could cry. I grip the sheets when his lips suction over my clit and two fingers enter me. My eyes are locked on his as my mouth drops open, a moan ripping through me. I can feel myself pulsing around his fingers as the pleasure draws out. My limbs turn to jelly, and I give in, falling to the mattress in my blissfully satiated state. I quiver when he withdraws his fingers, then peppers kisses over my thighs, across my hips, and up my stomach.
