Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
It’s slow but fast.
Deep yet thin.
Sweet but so damn dirty when it ends with me clutching her little ass in my hands until my fingers ache, flinging her up and down on my cock, jerking myself off in her pussy until I erupt inside her like a volcano coming undone.
“Lilah, fuck! Fuck!”
She comes for me real sweet, ass bobbing and perfect tits swaying in my face.
Her lips peel back, crying my name till I smother them again.
Delilah Clarendon has never tasted better than she does today.
And it’s all because I know nothing will ever steal her away from me again.
She’s mine down to the soul.
So fucking mine it vibrates through me as my cock pumps with claiming strokes, filling her to overflowing.
She crashes down in my arms, both of us a mess of pure sweat and come and the sweetest relief.
I never could have imagined this kind of sex happening when we first met, claws out and teeth bared as much as our hearts.
Now, it’s a high I can’t imagine living without.
This cynical wildcat trusted me enough to let me inside her heart, let me bask in her warmth, in the dreams she holds and the sweetness she guards behind her barbed wire.
Life without my Lilah would be empty.
As I peel her up from the bed, I wish I could tell her with more than my body how much she fills my heart.
Just like the way I fill her tight, clenching flesh until I can’t.
We’re timeless together.
Silent.
Wordless.
You never need words to say the shit that really matters.
The only thing I need to say is “Delilah” as I claim her lips with my teeth, taking us both to the pinnacle we can only reach together.
It’s sunset by the time we settle quietly into the afterglow.
With Delilah still curled in my arms, I walk my fingers lazily over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, you know,” she murmurs. “I don’t think I ever said that out loud. Sorry for not trusting you. Sorry for being so defensive. I wish I’d never shut you out.”
I smile drowsily. “I know. Thanks for saying it out loud, though. For the record, I’m sorry for being such a rhino ass, too.”
“...you’re not sorry for that. You still are an ass,” she teases, and I laugh.
“Guilty as charged.” I hold up my hand.
She playfully swats it and thumps my chest.
“Dork. Mmm, you know, though...”
“Yeah?”
“I wouldn’t mind you being my dork for a good long time.”
The feeling that spreads through me is like melting sunlight on a spring day.
“Yeah? You mean it?”
“I trust you,” Delilah says simply. Those words carry as much weight as I love you, when I know—I know how life has treated her, all those hard knocks giving her a mighty rough time with people. “It’s been a long time since I trusted anyone. Not just to be with me—but to stay.”
I get it now.
The way people abandoned her again and again, told her she was too much trouble, not worth fighting for, not worth keeping.
Hell, I’d push folks away to avoid that pain, just like her.
I catch her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her palm. “I will stay, Lilah. As long as you’ll have me. I love you, and I need to see how far we can take this.”
“Deal. We’ll see how long I can tolerate you,” she whispers. Her eyes glitter and her lips are warm as she pushes up to kiss me. “Because if you’ll fight that hard to save me, Lucas, I hope you’ll fight that hard to love me as much as I love you.”
27
Red Letter Day (Delilah)
Months Later
I love the smell of a bright summer day.
Even better, the smell of a summer day with my munchkins yelling “Miss Clare! Miss Clare!”—because half of them can’t say Clarendon yet—as they scamper around.
They come charging in with a thousand questions, plying me with everything from the wonders of pinecones to flowers to four-leaf-clovers.
I can’t help but smile.
They’re all thrilled to be on this summer field trip, hiking through the hills along the lakeshore. Every last kid treats what they find in the forest like it’s a tiny miracle.
That’s why I truly love this.
Through their eyes, I get to see the magic of life again.
They’re so open, so innocent, and it’s a total joy just watching them indulge their curiosity.
“So, ‘Miss Clare,’” a deep voice drawls at my back. “How much further to this campsite?”
I spin around, lacing my hands together behind my back and smiling impishly at Lucas.
He’s bent over with the weight of our camping gear, though it’s easy to tell he’s exaggerating when it’s not that crushing for him. Just light summer tents and a couple backpacks.
It’s not even enough to make him break a sweat, though I wouldn’t mind watching his skintight white t-shirt turn translucent.
Of course, the big lunk insisted on carrying everything, leaving me and the kids free to run ahead.