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He sits up, now wide awake and angry. “Do you really think that would help?”
Before I can respond, I am on my back, and he is kissing the life out of me. I can’t breathe, but I don’t want it to stop. I could die like this, and I would be happy.
He pulls away, panting, his green eyes ablaze. “Have I not proven to you every day that I want you here?”
“Yes, but—”
“Have I not shown you how much I want you, need you?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing.” He whips the covers off me. Then I feel him push up my nightgown and yank down my panties. He grabs himself and thrusts almost viciously inside of me as he cries out my name then pulls back. He thrusts in, pulls back, thrusts in . . . “You leave, and I will find you.”
My body trembles. He isn’t just fucking me; he is fucking away my insecurities.
“I love you!” I cry out.
He stills. His eyes show emotion—pain, I think. He doesn’t respond. He clamps his eyes shut and fucks me through orgasm after orgasm after beautiful orgasm. Then he comes with a roar, his heavy, thick cock twitching wildly inside me, but he doesn’t stop. He continues fucking.
I watch through my half-closed eyes as he glares at me. His body—oh, God, his body—is glorious. His muscles flex as he works me and himself into another release.
He then falls on top of me, panting, his chest rising and falling against mine. He dips his head down and rubs his stubble across my tight nipples, and then I feel him growing inside me again.
He pushes up on his arms, and this time, he slowly pushes in farther. Then he bends his head and kisses my cheek, my ear.
“If that’s true . . .” he pants. “If what you said is true”—he pulls out until his thick, broad head is the only part inside of my raw, sore pussy—“then you better never run from me, Lo. And you better never think that you are a burden.” He drives into me. “Together?”
“Yes,” I say as tears roll down my cheeks. “Yes!”
Slowly, lazily, he thrusts in and out.
I cup my breasts, and he groans, “Fuck.”
His pace quickens, and then he falls apart. He kisses me, pulls out, and steps off the bed.
“Don’t you move.”
“I don’t think I can,” I whisper.
He smiles. It’s a small yet very pride-filled smile. “Perfect.”
I hear the water running in the shower, and as much as I enjoy our lazy morning showers together, I can’t move. So I close my eyes and let exhaustion and the safety of knowing he wants me here as much as I want him lull me back to sleep.
I wake up to the smell of bacon and the feeling of stickiness between my legs. I force myself up and look at the clock. It’s nearly noon. I never sleep this late, but I also never had sex like that first thing in the morning, either.
In the shower, I think about the fact that I admitted I love him. He didn’t say the same, which should worry me, but it doesn’t. He shows me as much every day. I just hope he never feels like I am taking more than I am giving or will someday be able to give.
I love him. I love him madly. Never in my life have I or would I be able to feel safer than I do with him.
I get out of the shower and grab the white, terry-cloth robe he brought home for me. In hot pink on the back, it says Cobra. It is the first thing a man has ever bought for me.
I smile as I dry my hair and then laugh as I walk out. I am met with cold eyes.
“Good morning.”
He holds up my phone. “What’s this?”
I shrug, having no idea what he is talking about.
“Messages from Ryan Bennett, asking why you blocked him.”
“He was messaging a lot, asking when I’m coming home”—I shrug—“so I told him I was home. He sent a few more, and I blocked him.”
He lets out a deep breath. “You decided not to tell me because . . . ?”
“Because we have enough between us, and we don’t need him added on, Jason. I blocked him. I have no idea how he got back through.”
“I will deal with him,” he snaps.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Excuse me?” His eyes bug out, and I can’t help laughing. “Did I say something funny?”
“No, yes, maybe?” I sigh. “He would absolutely press charges if you did something, Jason.” I look down. The next part, I whisper, partially because he didn’t return my sentiments earlier. “I don’t think I could handle life without you.”
I glance up to see his chest visibly expand as he takes in a sharp breath. “Jesus. Come here.”
