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“Do I pass?” I inquire, amused.
He, on the other hand, is not amused as he purses his lips.
Raising his gaze, he meets my eyes with his.
“Don’t do this again,” he tells me in a steady voice, but the pain in his features is evident. He squeezes my fingers lightly. “Don’t you ever do this to me again, Noelle.”
I stare at him, the urge to avert my gaze too overwhelming. But I don’t. I need to face my fuck-ups head-on.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Sorry enough not to do it again?”
Slowly, I shake my head.
His lips flatten into a thin line.
“If you do this again, then I’ll be forced to do it too. Is that what you want, Noelle?”
I shake my head again. Somehow, I find it hard to verbalize it due to the shame eating at me.
“Then you won’t do it again,” he states unequivocally. He pauses a moment. Then, raising a brow, he asks again.”Will you?”
“I won’t,” I reply softly.
“Good,” he grunts, nodding to himself. “Good girl.”
My cheeks redden.
He finishes dressing up my injury before he presses a kiss above the bandage.
“You should be good now.”
“What about you? Are you sure your ribs are not hurting you?”
He shakes his head.
“I’m fine,” he says as he takes a place next to me around the fire.
In the beginning, there’s only silence. I don’t know who reaches for whom, but the clothes we’d just put on end up on the ground, cushioning our bodies. His lips smash against mine as he draws me to him. On his back, he supports my entire weight with his body, his hands roaming wildly down my ribs until he cups my ass cheeks.
If before our lovemaking had been slow and tender, this time it’s the complete opposite.
He kneads my flesh, bringing me on top of his shaft and urging me to rub against him.
Pressing my hands to his chest, I grind on top of him, coating his entire flesh in my arousal.
“Christ, pretty girl. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he groans, his head thrown back. “Just like that. Fuck,” he curses when I bring my thumb to the head of his cock, caressing the sensitive area, while I continue to move up and down his length.
“I want you inside of me,” I tell him in between breathy moans. But I don’t attempt to do it myself. Not when I wanthimto give me his explicit consent.
His eyes snap open as he watches me, the sparks from the fire emphasizing that lovely color.
He knows.
In that moment, he knows exactly what I’m asking.
The memory he’d gotten of us together had been with me on top of him, while he’d had no control of his body. I hate that it’s the only thing he remembers of our time at the hacienda and I want the opportunity to rewrite it.
