Page 125 of Fall (VIP 3)


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“John …” I wiggle just a bit, press my sore breasts against his hard chest. “Slide in.” I need it.

A small smile lifts the corners of his mouth. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” God, I’m so hot. I’m shaking with it now.

“You heard me.” He brushes his lips over mine, a tease. “No.”

The round head of his cock kisses my opening before drifting away, and I arch, tight and shivery. “You’re killing me.”

“Good.” All smugness and rocking hips.

“Good?” I glare up at him but can’t hold it, not when I’m panting, not when I’m so empty. “You’re glad that you are torturing me with sex?”

“Mmm …” He ducks his head and slowly licks my nipple. “Proud, even.”

“Sicko. God, do that some more.”

“Shhh …” His teeth nip my breast. “Accept your torture like a good girl, will you?”

“I’m not sure I like you anymore.” My fingers slide through his soft hair, playing with the ends as he suckles just enough to let me feel the heat of his tongue.

I feel his evil smile. “Sure you do.” He kisses his way over to the other breast as his cock grinds against my clit. “Of course, if you really object, you could push me off and take care of business on your own.”

It would serve him right if I did. But he’s too good, and he knows it. Even so, I grab a handful of his hair and gently tug him up. Green eyes find mine. They’re slightly unfocused, slumberous. And I know he’s as affected as I am.

“I’d rather you polish my pearl.” I wiggle my brows. “Canoodle with my kitty.”

A laugh trips from his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I love you.”

He says it so simply, so easily, like it burst forth with utter purity. Yet his body jerks, his eyes going wide. Everything halts, the words hanging between us, this living, breathing thing that takes hold of my heart and grips it tight. He doesn’t speak, but looks at me, his gaze darting over my face as if to gauge my reaction. In truth, he appears slightly horrified. We’re pressed so tightly together I feel every frantic thud of his heart.

“You didn’t mean to say that, did you?” I whisper.

“No.” The confession is a thread of sound.

But I wince as though he’d shouted and duck my head so I don’t have to face him. But he reaches out and cups my cheek, gently lifting my chin. Solemn green eyes hold mine. “But I do.”

Heat prickles over my skin. I can’t breathe. “You love me?”

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink. “Yeah. For a while now.”

I try to believe it, but I’m afraid to. “You said you wouldn’t fall in love.”

John’s lips curl wryly as his thumb slowly caresses the corner of my mouth. “Stella Button, the moment you ripped that ice cream out of my hand, you knocked me off-balance. All I could do was fall.”

Hope swells within me, surging up like a warm wave. I touch the crest of his cheek, the edge of his jaw, just to feel him. My throat threatens to close in on me. “I love you too.”

John sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, his exhale just as swift but shaking. “I was kind of hoping you did.” His smile is tremulous. “Never been in love.”

I see the uncertainty in his eyes, the fear. It matches my own. “Me either.”

His smile grows stronger. “I didn’t think it would feel this good.” A laugh trips out of him. “Or this terrifying.”

My answering grin is so wide I feel it in my cheeks. “I thought I was the only one.”

John hums deep within his throat and ducks his head to kiss his way down my neck. “I’m with you, Button. Whatever happens, I’m always with you.” He places a soft kiss on the tip of my nipple before leering up at me. “Now spread those thighs wider and let me fuck you right.”

“So romantic.” But I do as he asks, and he does me right.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

John

* * *

“Baby.” Stella nudges my arm that’s curled around her waist, pulling me out of a deep sleep. “The door.”

I’m spooned against her succulent little body so close that we’ve melded, and I don’t want to move. How did I ever sleep without her? My hand cups a full breast and the bead of her nipple hardens against my palm. “Mmm. You want more?” I give her a squeeze. “I can give you more.”

“Not more. Door.”

A grunt leaves me as she wiggles her ass, jostling my dick. “You want back door, babe?” I nudge her with now horny and seriously interested dick. “I’m willing if you are.”

Her voice lightens with humor. “Someone is knocking on the front door, you perv.”

The sound of knocking finally registers, and I lift my head to scowl. We’ve been staying at Killian’s place to keep Stevens company, since the hellcat refuses to enter my apartment. Stella claims it’s because he doesn’t like me. I’m no longer buying that since the fur ball is currently perched on my hip like he’s claimed himself king of the bed. His yellow eyes narrow with a look of disdain as another knock rings out. Apparently, he’s not amused at being disturbed either.

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