Page 211 of It Should Have Been You

In loving her, she taught me my most important lesson. I thought she was my weakness, but a man’s greatest weakness isn’t a woman. A man’s greatest weakness is underestimating the strength of one.

The world is quiet except for the soft exhale of her breath, each one a warm puff against my skin. She’s draped over me, her head resting on my chest.

Her hair, splayed over her face in a wild mess, and her cheeks flush with sleep… she’s breathtaking, even in sleep.

Her eyelashes flutter, the first signs of her waking, but before her eyes can fully open, I lean in, pressing my lips to her ear. “Morning, pretty girl.” Her breath hitches before she relaxes into me with a sigh. “You snore,” I whisper, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.

Her eyes snap open, a sudden look of indignation replacing the sleep-filled confusion. “I do not,” she retorts, sitting up to better glare at me.

My grin widens. “Like a chainsaw. You woke the neighbors.”

She nudges me. “Our nearest neighbors are at least a mile away.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re the worst,” she huffs, flopping back down on the bed.

She gingerly lifts the sheets to peek underneath.

“We’re naked.” A blush creeps up her neck to her cheeks as she quickly covers herself again.

I’ve been hard since I woke and found her in my arms. It took all my strength not to wake her, but it was the middle of the night before we finally fell in a tangled heap and found sleep.

My hand roams the plane of her back, journeying down until I find the curve of her ass, giving it a light squeeze.

“And I plan on keeping you that way.”

There’s a spark of anticipation in her gaze.

Her brows knit together, a playful defiance in her eyes as she challenges, “Oh, really? You decided that, did you?”

With a low chuckle, I roll us over, pinning her beneath me.

“I did. I’m a god, remember? You called out to me over and over and over last night.” I trail my fingers along the sensitive skin of her inner arm, drawing a gasp from her lips.

She swats my chest. “In your dreams, King.”

Hands skimming over my shoulders, her fingers trace my tattoos as if she’s committing them to memory. It’s a simple touch, but it makes my heart thunder in my chest. It stirs in my blood in ways I never thought possible.

Leaning down, I capture her lips in a gentle kiss, pouring every ounce of my feelings into it. When I pull back, she’s looking up at me with soft, doe eyes, and I’m hit with a wave of something akin to devotion. To think, this woman, with all her strength and resilience, chose me. And damn it, I plan to prove to her every day that she made the right choice.

Her thigh slides up my waist as she bites her lips together to stop from smiling, but the grooves of her dimples give her away.

“In my dreams? Really?”

“Uh huh.”

I graze my lips against hers. “You’re the dream.”

As if on cue, her body responds beneath me, each curve calling out for my touch, my exploration. My hand finds her waist, pulling her closer.

“Think I can’t make a decision, sweetheart?” I roll my hips. The sudden motion causes her breath to hitch.

“Meh, I’m still not convinced,” she says through the heavy pants of her breathing.

We both feel it when the air in the room shifts. I watch her, studying her reactions, drinking in the intoxicating sight of her beneath me, bare and trusting.

Slowly, I slide my hand between her legs, and groan when I feel her already soaked.

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