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Silence falls between us as my sobs continue and my body trembles against his.
Long minutes pass before I manage to get myself under control and pull my face from his chest. His shirt is soaked through from my tears. My face is probably red and blotchy, my eyes swollen and bloodshot, but he stares down at me as if I’m the most beautiful girl in the world. My heart flips over and a fresh round of tears threatens.
But before I crumble again, he tucks me against his side and guides me back toward his bedroom.
He gets us into bed without releasing me and curls his large body around mine.
“It’s over, baby. I’m not going to let anyone touch you again.”
I nuzzle against his chest, praying that I’m not hurting him and just breathe him in, soaking up his strength, promises, and love. It’s a heady feeling and I drift off to sleep feeling lighter than I have in a while. Emotional breakdown aside, things are good, and he’s right; it’s over, and we’re all going to be okay.
* * *
The heat of Alex’s hand slipping under my shirt wakes me a second before his fingers tickle over my ribs.
My nipples pucker, waking up rapidly with the rest of my body. I arch my back, offering myself up to him while grinding against his morning wood.
“Could wake up like this every morning,” I whisper when he finally cups one of my boobs and pinches my nipple.
“You can,” he whispers, peppering kisses across my neck, sending goosebumps racing over my skin. “Every. Single. Day. I can wake you with kisses.”
I moan in delight, my entire body sinking into the mattress. “More.”
“As if I’d stop,” he laughs, rolling his hips against my arse, letting me know how much he loves waking up with me too. “I’ll never get enough of you, Evie. Never.”
“Same,” I gasp as he sucks on the sensitive skin beneath my ear until it hurts in the best kind of way.
“You sore?” he asks, being the caring guy I remember all too well from before.
“Not enough to worry about,” I say, reaching over my head so I can twist my fingers in his hair.
“Can’t promise you won’t be saying that in about thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes, huh?”
“I had a really, really good sleep,” he growls in my ear. “I have some energy to burn off before Mum turns up to torture me.”
“She’s looking after her boy, making sure you heal properly,” I argue.
“I think she secretly loves dishing out the pain for all the grey hairs I’ve given her over the years.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“Thing is, I don’t think I’ve been quite bad enough.”
I moan in frustration when his hand slips from under my shirt, leaving my skin cold and desperate for his touch. But then he shifts about a little behind me, and the burning heat of his cock brushes between my thighs.
“Lift your leg and push back a little farther,” he demands.
Something tells me he hates the fact he can’t just drag me into position himself, but it won’t be long until he’s got full use of his arms again.
“Good girl,” he praises when I shift into position.
He pushes the tip inside me and groans, teasing me by not giving me any more.
“I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked for me, Vixen.”
“Need you.”
