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“Yes. You’re fine.” His lips find the top of my head and they brush over my hair, creating a buzz of comfort, of…safety.
My head rests on his chest as I catch my breath, burrowing into the hard ridges of his muscles, using him as my nook, my anchor.
My husband.
After he fucked me until my voice turned hoarse and no more sounds or orgasms were left in me, I don’t remember much.
He must’ve untied me and cleaned me up at some point, or I wouldn’t have been in this position.
“Are you hungry?”
“No.” I lean my head back but don’t leave the cocoon as I stare at him. It’s night outside and some of the candles are still lit, their red hues casting a warm glow on his face.
I love his face.
I love how he’s more beautiful than a Greek god and just as lethal.
But most of all, I love how his hard granite features only soften around me. As if no one in the world is worthy of his gentle side but me—and Jer.
While he continues to hold me, Adrian reaches back to the nightstand and retrieves a bottle of water, removes the top, and places it at my lips.
“I’m not thirsty.”
“You must be. Drink up or you’ll dehydrate.”
I attempt to take the bottle, but he keeps it out of reach.
“I can drink on my own,” I grumble.
“I know.”
“If you want me to drink water from your hand, all you have to do is say so.”
“I don’t want you to drink water from my hand.” After he takes a swig, he grabs my jaw. His mouth meets mine and he pours the water into it. He nibbles my lip, then his teeth tug on it and he sucks it inside his hot, wet mouth.
By the time he finishes, I’m hyperventilating, my jaw open and my throat dryer than before he gave me the water.
Holy. Shit.Can I drink that way for the rest of my life?
“Go on. Drink, Lia.”
“From your lips?” I ask like an idiot.
Adrian’s mouth twitches in a smile as he motions at my hand. That’s when I realize he already placed the bottle between my fingers.
“Though if you prefer my lips, I can arrange it.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I blurt out, then gulp half the bottle down in one go to soothe my dry throat and the embarrassment heating my cheeks.
“Slower.” He pulls the bottle away. “Or you’ll choke.”
I stare up at him, my heart squeezing behind my ribcage. I’ve known him for six years. Six whole years, but seeing him this close never gets dull.
Henever gets dull.
“How did you find me back then?” I ask in a low voice.
“Back when?”
