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I weave my fingers through his hair. I want to repeat back what he just said but I'm scared. I'm fearful that the promises he made aren't grounded in his real emotions. I'm terrified that when he fucks me tonight, that he'll pull back after just as he did before. My heart can't find the truth in that fear but it's my mind that clutters every thought I'm having.
He moves his head again, this time lowering it over my stomach. He trails his lips down my belly, stopping when he reaches my core. He looks up, locking his dark eyes with mine before his tongue darts out and expertly licks at my outer folds.
"I love the taste of you." He nuzzles his face into my wetness. "I need it."
I push my legs apart, not feeling any vulnerability with the movement. I don't care that I'm completely exposed to him. There's no shame in my desire for him. I arch my hips towards him as he dives in and eats me with a fury that screams of the desire he feels for me too.
I open my eyes just as I feel the climax bearing down on me. I crash into it as I see his dark head, moving frantically between my thighs, intent on giving me pleasure. He's focused only on what I need, pushing his own cravings aside.
He reaches for the condom package he had thrown on the bed when we walked into the room. He rips it open quickly and silently. He sheaths his thick cock as his eyes settle on my core.
I cling tightly to him when he inches forward a touch to rub the spongy, wide crown over my clit. He moans when he feels my body tense and he calls out my name when he pushes inside me.
"Rowan," he whispers. "You're everything to me."
I feel the tears burn my cheeks as he finds his rhythm. His thrusts are slow, measured and delicious. He's taking his time. He's pulling as much from this as he's giving.
I whimper when I feel my release. I pull his head down so he can kiss me and he rewards me with a groan wrapped into a sigh.
I come in heated waves; one tormented ripple after another reverberates through every part of me. He stills to watch my face. He stops to hear my cries.
He rolls his hips as he plunges deeper with each heavy thrust and as he finds his own release, tears stream from his eyes and fall onto my chest. My name escapes from between his quivering lips and when he's pumped everything he has into me, he kisses me with a hunger I've never felt before.
Chapter 48
I walk back into the bedroom after going to find some juice in the kitchen. He'd clung tightly to me after he came. When he finally rolled off me to tie up the condom and toss it in the wastebasket next to the bed, the silence that filled the room was heavy and measured.
I needed to breathe and I needed the hope that would come with hearing him tell me he still wanted me. I'd left to search for a drink to give him time to gather his emotions. I'd witnessed him sob. I'd felt the tears as they hit my skin. I'd wanted to comfort him, and hold him, but he'd brushed his hand across his face and the moment had passed without a word.
"My beautiful Bell is back."
The words collapse me from the inside out. I feel my knees buckle beneath me and the glass of orange juice that I'd carefully poured is now spilled all over the floor mixed with the shards of broken glass.
"Be careful." He's on his feet, scooping me up in his arms. "You'll cut your feet."
"I should clean that." I mutter against his chest. "I can get something to clean that up."
"I'll do it." He sets me on the edge of the bed. "I'll go get another glass of juice and then I'll clean it up."
He turns to go and I pull on his elbow to stop him. "No. Don't go."
"I won't." He smiles at me as he tucks my legs beneath the blanket that we just made love on. "Your feet are chilled. You should get under the covers."
I stare at him. I drink in the sight of his flushed skin and the muscular smoothness of his chest. I've always thought of him as the most attractive man I've seen, but now, in the light of the bedroom's lamps and in the glow of my orgasmic high, I see something more. He's not only beautiful to look at. He's kind. It's there in his eyes and in the smile that he reserves for only me.
Caleb Foster is ruthless when it comes to business. He'll take on anyone who threatens what he has built for his family. I've never seen him back down from anyone, but tonight I see traces of the boy who used to tease me endlessly.
"I stole one of your sweatshirts."
"I don't have sweatshirts." He tips his chin so his forehead touches mine. "Do I look like a sweatshirt kind of guy to you?"
I tap him on the shoulder. "I'll bet you have sweatshirts. I'll check out your closet."
"You stole some dude's sweatshirt," he teases. "Why the fuck would I let you look in my closet? Do you know how expensive the suits are that are in there?"
I pull my hand over my mouth to stifle the laughter. "You got those suits for free. You own the company that makes them."
"Good point." He furrows his brow in a mock scowl. "Now, back to the clothing that you've been stealing. What's up with that?"
