Page 152 of The Lovely Return


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I’ve found my heaven. I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve her.

“Let’s go inside,” I breathe as the rain pelts us harder.

She shakes her head. “No…” She’s breathless with my fingers deep inside her. “Let’s stay here. Let’s make love right here. In the rain. In the grass.”

I don’t need to hear that twice.

Holding on to her, I stand. She wraps her legs around me, kissing my lips and cheeks as I carry her to a spot near the tree where there’re beds of soft moss and grass. When I lie her on her back, I remove her shoes then kneel between her legs. She stares up at me with a sexy smile, then gathers my shirt in her hands, tugging it up over my head.

“You should never wear a shirt again,” she whispers, running her fingertips over my abs. My muscles jump from her touch, begging for more. “I love looking at you, Fox. You’re my favorite piece of art.”

Utterly lost in her beyond any chance of return, I grin down at her. “I won’t wear one if you won’t.” I give her a quick kiss on the nose before parting her thighs farther. I lower my head and slowly taste her, moving my tongue through her folds, from her entrance to her clit. I almost come on the spot when her toned thighs tighten around my shoulders. Another crack of lightning splinters the sky as she writhes against my mouth with her hands in the damp grass at her sides, raking through the blades. Every time I feel her tensing and building to climax, I pause, moving my lips to her stomach, to her breasts—licking, sucking, and biting all her delicate and rain-drenched places. Making her wait, quivering and clenching, until she begs me to come back, digging her heels into me.

Finally, she sits up, grasps the waistband of my jeans, and pulls me toward her. She presses her lips to my wet chest as she unbuttons them and tugs the zipper down. I catch her hand in mine.

“I don’t have anything with me,” I tell her, mentally kicking my own ass for not being prepared. I haven’t needed a condom since 2006.

Droplets of rain drip down her cheeks like teardrops as she studies my face. Her tongue skims across her lips. “Can you pull out?” she murmurs in a soft, sultry tone that sends my heart into overdrive.

I touch her face, swiping the raindrops with my thumb. “Of course. Or we can wait—”

I don’t want her to feel rushed, or worried. I want it to be perfect.

Her head is shaking before I can even finish the thought. “I don’t want to wait anymore.” Her eyes—my favorite hue of green—captivate me, filling me with memories and promises. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

My heart begins to pound, and my veins buzz as blood rushes through them.

“Yes.” I lean down and cover her lips with mine. “We have.”

I quickly lose my clothes and shoes, and I’m back in the haven of her—the only place I’ve felt alive and happy for over twenty years. With the warm rain bathing us, we’re wrapped in each other’s arms and thighs, our mouths kissing with a fervor that burns beyond just physical need. I want to devour her. Drink her. Inhale her into my soul and keep her safe and loved for eternity. I never want another second to go by without her close to me.

Her touch pulls me back from the dreamlike state her lips were lulling me into. My cock throbs against her slippery, wet palm as she glides her fingertips over my shaft. Slow and tentative at first, like a cat mesmerized with a new toy, then fisting me, wrapping her hand around me, sliding it up and down my length.

My self-control is fading fast. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fucking explode,” I breathe out.

“Have you really waited twenty-two years to have sex?” Awe laces through her voice as she tiptoes her fingers up and down my length.

“Let’s just say I’m in a complicated relationship with my left hand.”

She flashes me a teasing smile. “Me too.”

Leaning back against the grass, she pulls me between her open legs. I’m inside her with one swift thrust. She clings to me, letting out a muffled cry, followed by a throaty moan that drips with sated contentment. It’s the same sound I’ve heard her make when she bites into her favorite food, only this is a thousand times better because it's me. I’m the thing she’s losing herself in, the thing she can’t get enough of, the thing she loves.

Love.

I’ve almost forgotten what physical love feels like, but I feel it now as our bodies move slowly, perfectly, together like the gears of a clock. She touches me how I love to be touched, wrapping one leg around my waist, her other hooked around my calf. One hand is tangled in my hair, holding me, not letting my lips leave her, the other grips my ass, guiding the rhythm of my thrusts.

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