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“Cris,” I groaned.
“What?” he growled.
“What does this mean?”
“You want me to stop?”
I clamped down tighter on him, my legs squeezing him at the same time.
“Oh, fuck.” He went still until I let him go, and he began grinding against me. Into me.
“Cris,” I gasped, already feeling the beginning of my release.
Jesus, no. It was too soon. Too quick. If this was the end of us, I wanted to last as long as possible.
“You’re asking what this means?” he clipped out, sitting up, wrapping an arm around my back and holding me in place, but now his chest was to my chest. His mouth dipped, finding mine. His tongue swept in. “All of that bullshit from last year. You leaving me because some bitch made you scared. Not telling me. Not letting me have a say. You doing it thinking to save me. Then that same bitch fucks with my head, and fucks me, and I find out that I lost you, thinking I just had you, and then I’m seeing you fucking around with some punk loser?”
“Where are you going with this?” I was still moaning.
I needed to slow my climax. Stop it.
Grandma, grandma, grandma.
Nope. It wasn’t working. He was still pumping furiously up into me, his tongue claiming me at the same time. He nipped at the corner of my mouth. “Look at me.”
I looked at him, more because I was shocked at the gruff command.
His eyes were heated and blazing. He caught the side of my face, holding me in place as he slammed up into me. “You’re saying ‘your truth’ now like I’ve not been here. Like I didn’t walk into that bar, sling you over my shoulder and carry you out, or like I didn’t make you sleep in my bed when you were throwing attitude at me left and right the night before, and getting sick eight hundred fucking times.”
My eyes went wide. Eight hundred? No wonder it was the hangover of all hangovers.
He kept going, still growling, but he nipped at the other corner of my mouth, still holding my face in place. “I was with you all the next day. At your side. Following you, thinking I was going to end up delivering you back to your boyfriend’s door, no matter that you gave me that ‘come hither and fuck me good’ look that you did when you sauntered into the shower. Or that I had to have seconds because I didn’t know when or if I’d get to taste you again. Or all of the shit that happened afterwards when I realized I stuck my dick in someone I would never want to stick my dick into. But after your whole train analogy of needing to talk about our emotions, I know that I’m going to need to face whatever that event makes me feel. But I will because I’m not letting you not be at my side. Like I’ve been at your side every single day. Every single night, you’re in my bed or I’m in yours. And you’re now just giving me the exclusive or nothing talk like you think you’re delivering a death sentence to you and me?”
I was so confused, but God, he was blasting my body with some serious carnal and primal delicious sensations. I wasn’t complaining.
He rolled us again, with him on top, still in me, and he paused. He arched over me, lifting his head so he could see me. So I could see him, and my breath stopped, holding in my chest at the look in his eyes. They were shining, they were so bright.
The hand that cupped the side of my face gentled, matching his tone. “I don’t know how else to show you I love you without actually just saying the words.”
I went still.
His thumb went to my bottom lip, running over it. He kept watching me, reading into me. “We started with laughter and no strings, but that changed the night you were here when I found out my sister lost her baby. That night I started sinking into you, and I’ve never looked back. I messed up, though, because I never told you that. I’m sorry. So here it is, my truth. I love you. I started falling in love with you almost a full year ago today. Homecoming weekend. That’s when I would’ve had a new niece. Instead, I got you and I forgot that you don’t read minds. So fuck no to you walking from me. I love you, and that for damn sure means no other chick or dick is going to touch you because you’re mine. You hear me?” He leaned down, drilling his words into me.
I responded by opening my legs wider for him, and he groaned, his eyes rolling backwards. “Fuck me.”
I pushed up, my hips raising to start hitting against his, and I growled as I nipped the side of his mouth. “That’s the idea, because you’re mine right back, Chavez.”
A whole new rumble came out of him as I used his last name. He picked up his pace, and so did I, rolling with him until we both collapsed, releasing together.
It was fucking perfect.
No. Wait.
I looked over at him, panting, trying to catch my breath. “I love you too.”
He went still, looking over, and a new tenderness came over him as he lifted himself up, moving to kiss me. “Thank God because if you didn’t, I was just going to keep fucking you until you did.”
I grinned against his lips.
