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“You,” she gasped. “You. Need you. Now.”
His lips were on her breast. He sucked a nipple hard and a moan ripped out of her.
“Now,” he agreed.
Her legs parted as his weight settled over her. “So beautiful.” His words a whisper of wonder.
Abby’s heavy eyelids struggled to open. When they did, it was impossible to breath. He was there. In the moment with her. There was nothing else. Only Flynn. Making her desperate. He pressed into her. Her hands flew to his arms. Her nails dug in. Her back arched.
“Abby,” he groaned.
Every inch of her skin was on fire. She couldn’t think. All she could do was feel as he filled her. His weight heavy against her. His strength holding her in place. She wanted to taste, to smell, to feel. She wanted to lose herself in Flynn. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, buried her face in his neck and licked his salty skin.
“Damn it, Abby, I can’t hold back when you do that.”
“Don’t.” She nipped his corded neck. So much strength. Just for her. “Don’t hold back.”
He cursed. His forehead touched hers. A pause. A sigh. His hips began to move. Propelling into her. Each stroke taking her higher, making reality spin. There was nothing to do but hold on to him.
“Yes.” She felt it build. A storm inside of her.
“Let go, love. Let me see you.”
Suddenly she fell back into the bed, her hands beside her head. No more strength to hold on. All she could do was feel. And she felt every delicious inch of him as he moved inside her. Her body clenched. Her breath stopped. She heard the roaring in her veins. Felt his skin burning hers. Felt herself spiral upwards. Gasping. Moaning. Straining towards him. Claiming him as her own.
Flynn roared. His body clenched tight above her. And as she floated back to earth, his weight fell over her. His arms wrapped her tight and he held her close, still joined with her. She felt muscles pulse and clench. She heard pants and gasps as the world began to materialise again.
A tight fist of reality formed in her chest. A feeling she couldn’t quite explain, let alone understand. It was relief at moving on, at feeling alive. At the same time, it was deep grief over letting go. And to her shame, she started to sob. Not gentle tears, but great, rasping sobs.
Flynn rolled them, wrapping her tight at his side, one arm curled around her waist. The other held the back of her head, pressing her into his chest. He nuzzled her hair and kissed her head.
“It’s okay, Abby love.” His voice was soothing. “It’s okay. I understand.”
Abby couldn’t stop her tears as she inched closer to him. She wanted to curl up inside him. Protected. Hidden.
“It’s okay.” His hands gently stroked her back.
It wasn’t okay. She didn’t even understand it herself. “It isn’t you. It isn’t what we did.” She had to force the words past sobs. She had to reassure him.
“I know.” He kissed her hair again as he squeezed her tight. “It’s just the first time since your husband. It’s change. It’s loss. It’s letting yourself live. I get it. I’m here. Don’t worry, Abby, I’m here.”
She buried her face in his chest and let the tears flow. Safe in the cocoon of Flynn’s warm embrace. Soothed by his musky scent. Listening to his heartbeat under her cheek.
Safe to grieve.
Safe to start again.
Safe with Flynn.
28
“Okay, so we lost, but good things can come from it—negative and positive.”
Glenn Hoddle, former England manager
“Muma, Muma, wake up! The circus is here!”
“What the hell?” Flynn mumbled into the pillow.
