The Image of You Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Drama, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
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My orgasm rolled through my body, gathering strength and erupting fiercely. I held her close, rocking as she shuddered, my name a muffled sound between us.

Reluctantly, we moved apart, separating back into two halves, both of us knowing we’d only ever be whole again with each other.

I tucked her into my side, breathing her in, every sense attuned to her. It was as if my entire world was contained in my arms.

It was too soon and too fast. I knew it. But I had seen how quickly life changed, moved, and was gone. So I said it anyway.

“I love you, Ally.”

Her mouth pressed on my chest. “I love you too, Adam.”

I woke, meeting Ally’s contented gaze.

She was sitting in the chair, holding a cup of coffee and watching me with a grin. “You’re very sexy when you sleep, even with the snores.”

I moved, letting the sheet fall, resting over my hips. “Is that so?”

“I love your tattoos.”

I glanced at the swirls of ink on my body. “I’m thinking of a new one.”

“Oh?”

I tapped my finger over my heart—one of the few bare areas on my chest—knowing she’d understand. “I think I’ve found the perfect design.”

I’d wear her on my heart. I’d etch her into my skin, because she was already under it, living within me.

I sat up, swinging my legs over the mattress. They hit the floor with a dull thud, the sheet slipping lower. “What are you doing all the way over there?”

“I needed coffee.”

I eyed the cup in her hand. “You gonna share, Ally?”

In silent offering, she held out the mug, and I stood, the sheet slipping to the floor. I stretched, her eyes following every muscle as it bunched and moved, lingering on the heavy erection already growing as I looked at her. Her long red hair flowed around her bare shoulders, her blue eyes lit with desire as she watched me. The color of the duvet set off her creamy skin. Skin I knew was smooth under my tongue and tasted sweet, like her. A tiny purple mark stood out on her shoulder from my teeth. I liked seeing it. I sat down on the ottoman, taking the cup and drinking deeply. The hot beverage was laced with her favorite flavor, cinnamon, and I liked it. With a grin, I drained the mug and placed it beside her.

“I said I’d share.”

“Yep.”

“You drank it all,” she pouted.

“I’ll get you more after.”

“After?”

She gasped as I reached under the duvet and grabbed her hips, pulling her out of the chair and flush to my chest. I wrapped the duvet around us and kissed her fiercely, my tongue seeking the warmth of her mouth. I lifted her, pushing the ottoman out of the way and lowering us to the floor, covering her with my body. She wrapped her legs around me. I groaned at the slickness of her.

“So ready for me, baby.”

“Adam,” she gasped as I surged into her, pleasure rippling through my body. We fit together perfectly—she was made only for me. And I was equally hers. Only hers.

“Told you,” I groaned, tugging on her earlobe.

“Told me what?”

I smiled into her neck. “We’d end up on the floor.”

A short while later, we cuddled in the chair, wrapped in the duvet, and talked.

I told her stories from different places I’d been. Some of the things I’d seen—both beautiful and tragic. There were images I knew I’d never forget and would never share with her, while others I could speak of with fond memories. She listened raptly, her eyes focused on my face as I spoke. After a while, she asked more about me.

“How did you end up here?”

“I came into a trust fund from my parents when I was twenty-one, and I had already been earning good money, so I decided it was time to buy something. I lived in a small place for a while, and when I found this building, I bought it. It was a great investment.”

“Do you see yourself staying here?”

“As a home base? I think so.”

She was quiet for a minute, and when she spoke, her voice was nervous. “But you still have the travel bug. The need to move—not stay in one place.”

I cupped her cheek, stroking the smooth skin with my thumb. “Until now, I had no reason to.”

“But now?”

“You’re my reason, Nightingale. You’re what I’ve been looking for. My anchor.”

“Adam—”

“I’m not giving up my career. You have to understand that. I love what I do.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“At times. But I’m careful, and it’s not forever. One day, soon enough, I’ll stop doing it.”

“Can you?”

“Yes. When the time is right. There are other things I want to take pictures of—people and places. Beautiful parts of this world some people can only experience through photographs.” I drew in a breath. “Maybe, one day, you’d come with me while I visit those places?”


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