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He growls. “You’re going to kill me, darling girl.”
Warmth washes over me at the sound of his familiar endearment. Even a few months ago, this pleasant squeeze in my chest would have been followed by a stab of pain.
What’s happened? Have I changed too?
He pulls away and positions himself at my entrance. In one thrust, he slams inside me. I whimper at the sharp sensation, and he stills. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
His voice is shaking, and I smile up at him. “It’s okay. I like it when you’re rough.”
He shuts his eyes. “You’re so tight and hot. I’ve been dreaming of this for so long.”
I lift my mouth to his ear. “Me too.”
He groans as he pulls away and shoves himself back inside me, and I meet him thrust for thrust, savoring the feeling of his cock inside me.
He rolls us over, his hard fingers cutting into my skin. “Ride me. I want to look at you.”
I sink down on his shaft and moan as I rock back and forth. My fingers skim from his shoulder to his stomach, and he sucks in a breath. Those hungry eyes are fixed on my face. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, Whitney Walker.”
The reverence in his voice drifts over my body like a warm waterfall. I’m about to burst into pieces. I rise up and slam down on him again and again. My world blurs and spins, and electricity shoots from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes.
Mark mutters something under his breath, and at first I can’t make it out. At the next swivel of my hips, he says it louder. “I love you.”
An emotion too complex to name simmers under my veins.
My body begins to quake as he grips my hips. I rise up and down rapidly, frantic for my release. Every nerve within me seems to be on fire, and before I know it I’m screaming.
My body clenches around him as my muscles contract. “Mark,” I shout. I know he’s about to come. I can feel it. His body is trembling beneath me. He yanks my hips against his, jerking forward as he releases a roar and explodes inside me. I cling to his shoulders as he pulls my back to the couch and collapses on top of me.
He buries his face in my neck, panting. His body is warm and heavy on mine, and his heart is pounding against my skin. “Holy fuck.”
I laugh softly. “I know.”
“I needed this. Oh my God, I’ve missed you. I don’t know how I’ll ever… How I could live without—”
When his voice cracks, I squeeze him tightly. His chest heaves, but he doesn’t make a sound. He sniffles. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I’m just overwhelmed.”
“It’s okay.” I kiss his cheek. As he cries silently, certainty drifts over me like morning sunlight.
I’m not ready to forgive him.
But I’m also not ready to let him go.
A long while later, we’re still lying snuggled together, my back against his bare chest. He’s been quiet. Thoughtful.
“You can have that date,” I say, a smile tugging at my lips. “If you still want it.”
“No.”
A chill runs down my spine. “You’ve changed your mind?”
“About that date. Yes.”
Tears cloud my eyes, making the world around me grow murky and dull.
It’s okay, Whitney. This will pass.
You got over him once. You can do it again.
