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“Take off your jeans.”
I shoot her a grin, teasing, “So bossy.” But I'm already kicking off my jeans, studying her for the disgust I hope I don’t see.
My breath is lodged in my chest, and I’m paralyzed by hope as she takes me in—all of me. Her eyes roam over my scars and up over my face before landing again on my dick. Through it all, I see no disgust. A little fear, a lot of excitement, but never disgust.
I love this woman.
I’m in love with this woman.
Still, I don’t move until she lays back on the bed, parting her legs and inviting me to come close. I don’t make her wait. Settling my body over hers, she kisses me, and I kiss her back, claiming the control over this moment as I hook an arm around her waist and grind her into me.
She gasps as my length slides against her hot heat, my cock pulsing with a vicious need to be buried deep inside her. This woman has invaded every corner of my mind, every vein in my body—and the heart inside my chest.
Now, I’m going to invade her.
ChapterThirty-Five
Sadie
Feeling his body against mine is bliss. He's so heavy, his body is so warm, I feel overwhelmed by him. Cocooned by him.Consumed by him.
His hands on my naked skin are rough. This man might work at the computer, but he's a mountain man through and through. His hands are roughened by working in the harsh cold, clearing snow and fallen trees. His body is built by working this untameable land. He’s worn by weather, by the wind and the rain, the sun and dark, the snow. His rough scars against the smooth unmarred surface of my flesh is beautiful. He fits against me in a way I imagined the man I gave myself to this way would fit.
As he rises up onto his forearms to grind down between my legs again, I'm tossing my head back, my eyes squeezing closed, my heart jackhammering in my chest. I cling to his shoulders, and they're so broad. So wide.
Under one hand, his skin is rough and angry. The other is smooth and warm. I love both sides of him. The rough and the smooth.
The harsh and the gentle.
He sees himself as a monster. But all I see is mine.
Made for me.
I could never look at him and see ugly or monstrous.
“Nick,” I cry his name, begging. “Please.”
There is pain in my core. It has settled so deep, and it is nearly agonizing. I'm so wet. He’s sliding against me, grinding into me. But not the way I need him to. I can sense this on an entirely instinctual level. I need himinsideme, and I need it now.
My voice trembles as I whisper, “It hurts.”
He stiffens, his voice gruff, “What hurts?”
“Me. Inside.”
God, I’m aching. Throbbing.Empty…
“What?” He's confused, because he's not inside me yet.
I let loose a sound a frustration. “I want you inside me. It's so bad—I want you so bad—it hurts.”
I feel like I'm close to tears. This is ridiculous. I am ridiculous. I've never wanted anything so much in my life that it physically caused me pain. But there's this hollow ache in my core that needs to be filled by him.
“Please.” I shift against him, instinctually trying to draw him closer, to pull him into me.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I cry.
