Page 53 of The Image of You

I buried myself in her.

Fast. Hard. Deep.

We both cried out.

I stilled, our gazes locked at the overwhelming intensity of the moment. “I told you I wasn’t going to treat you like glass.”

She whimpered, her hands grasping for me.

I withdrew and slammed back into her. She tightened her legs. I thrust again, and she shut her eyes, her back arching. Her breasts jutted out, her nipples stiff and still red from my mouth. I groaned her name and surged forward, everything else around me ceasing to exist but how she felt. Her tight, wet warmth gripped my cock as I thrust, fucking her—loving her—showing her how right we were together. I took her the way I told her I would—powerfully and completely, forever marking her as mine. The room spun, sweat dripped down my back as I hovered over her, my body telling her everything I hadn’t said with words. Her orgasm was beautiful to watch—the utter bliss on her face as she sobbed my name, her voice hoarse and needy. Her pussy contracted around my cock, her nails digging into my shoulders, as she shuddered and quaked around me.

I buried my face into her neck as my balls tightened with my impending orgasm. I gripped her hips as I continued to move, strong and fast, cursing as I exploded. I emptied myself inside her, ecstasy pounding through my body until I collapsed beside her, my breathing ragged. Unable to bear being separated from her, I wrapped her up in my arms, kissing and nuzzling her soft hair, whispering her name.

Gradually, we calmed. I never stopped caressing her—she never released the way she clutched me. When she shivered, I drew the blanket around us, pulling her close again. I felt her sink into me, her body growing relaxed with sleep.

“Mine,” I whispered, my breath blowing over her cooling skin.

“Yours,” she replied.

Nothing, and no one, was going to change that.

Ever.

We slept. Wrapped around each other, neither of us could let go. Even when I woke up, the afternoon sun high in the sky, my need for her building again, I refused to move or disturb her. Instead, I watched her sleep, felt her light breath on my skin, and savored her closeness.

I couldn’t be without her anymore.

Slowly, she woke, blinking, soft and sweet. Her gaze was shy but filled with so much tenderness, I ducked my head and covered her mouth with mine, kissing her deeply. She wound her hands into my hair, pulling me close, and within seconds, we were lost—the world outside disappearing.

There was only my Nightingale and me.

We didn’t have a breath of air between our bodies as our kisses became deeper. Longer. More. Hard, pumping heat rushed through me. Everything became magnified. The feel of her skin on mine as our chests slid together. The erotic noises she made as we moved. Her wetness that teased my aching cock.

I found her rapid pulse beating erratically at the base of her throat, and I bit down, hissing in satisfaction at her low moan. Her fingers clawed at my back, pulling me closer. I slipped into her warmth and stilled at the powerful pleasure of being buried inside her. Our gazes locked and held, and an intense tenderness flooded my chest. I moved with long, deep thrusts that made her whimper and arch under me. I couldn’t pull my lips from hers, my tongue needing to be in her mouth. We shared oxygen, our united touch more important than air.

My orgasm rolled through my body, gathering strength and erupting fiercely. I held her close, rocking as she shuddered, my name a muffled sound between us.

Reluctantly, we moved apart, separating back into two halves, both of us knowing we’d only ever be whole again with each other.

I tucked her into my side, breathing her in, every sense attuned to her. It was as if my entire world was contained in my arms.

It was too soon and too fast. I knew it. But I had seen how quickly life changed, moved, and was gone. So I said it anyway.

“I love you, Ally.”

Her mouth pressed on my chest. “I love you too, Adam.”

* * *

I woke, meeting Ally’s contented gaze.

She was sitting in the chair, holding a cup of coffee and watching me with a grin. “You’re very sexy when you sleep, even with the snores.”

I moved, letting the sheet fall, resting over my hips. “Is that so?”

“I love your tattoos.”

I glanced at the swirls of ink on my body. “I’m thinking of a new one.”