Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Savannah stared back at me with wide eyes, struggling to take in everything I’d said, clutching the covers close to her chest as if in defense.
I kept talking. “None of this is happening until you decide it is. So, you don’t have to worry about it right now. I’m going to marry you, but I’m not going to bully you into it.”
“I don’t understand you,” Savannah said, narrowing her eyes at me. Then her gaze caught on the box in my hand, and they narrowed further. I opened the box.
“Where did you get that?” she asked in a hushed tone.
“From Griffen. It was my mother’s. I want it to be yours.”
Savannah didn’t say a word, her eyes fixed on the ring, then flicking to my face and back to the ring. Finally, she breathed, “Finn.” She drew in a quick breath. “Finn. It’s so beautiful.”
I took her left hand in mine and slid the ring on. It was a little big, but just a little. It wasn’t going to fall off. I held her hand out, turning it so the ring caught the light.
“I knew it would look perfect on you,” I said, not hiding my satisfaction.
Savannah studied her hand, turning it in the light, mesmerized by the fire in the diamonds.
“If you decide it isn’t your taste,” I said, “We can find something else.”
“No, Finn, it’s beautiful.” Her eyes were still caught on the ring.
“You like it?” I asked.
“It doesn’t mean I’m marrying you—”
I cut off her words with my mouth.
Stage two of the plan was successful. Time for stage three.
No more talking. Not for stage three.
I loved all the ways Savannah and I came together. Sometimes we fucked. Sometimes we were laughing as much as we were moaning, and sometimes we made love, slow and sweet, dragging it out until both of us were on the edge of begging. Looking back, I realized it was at those times that I knew—this was love. It was so much more than lust or just sex. It wasn’t scratching an itch or filling a need. I’d only ever had this with Savannah. I never wanted it with another woman.
I kissed her, a slow, sweet, claiming kiss, her mouth soft and open under mine, her tongue stroking mine. She was wearing my ring, holding me in her arms, kissing me back.
Everything I’d ever wanted was right here, under this roof, and now that I was here, Savannah in my arms, I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to figure it out.
I kissed my way down her body, tasting and touching, until she shook under my mouth, her clit on my tongue, her cries muffled by her arm so she wouldn’t wake Nicky sleeping below. When she got her breath back, she rolled, tackling me with unexpected energy. I expected her to straddle my hips, but she scooted down, running her tongue up my rigid length. Tasting. Savoring. And when her left hand curled around my erection, that ring sparkling in the dim light, it shot straight through my heart. God damn this woman. I never imagined what it would feel like to see my ring on her, but now that I knew, there was no way I was letting her go.
I stopped her before I came, needing to finish inside her. Needing to mark her, claim her as mine in every way I could. I hooked my hands under her arms and hauled her up the bed, rolling to pin her beneath me, finding her slick and ready. I savored her gasp when I filled her, slowly feeling every inch of her body’s tight grasp.
Dropping my head, my lips at her ear. I whispered, “I love you. I love you, Savannah.”
She was silent, but for the low moan in her throat, her fingers curled over my shoulders, her nails biting in as she rocked up to take me deeper, giving with her body what she couldn’t with words. I cupped the curve of her ass, tilting her so I could slide just a little deeper. Just deep enough to grind and rock and wring the orgasm from her body, the tight, pulsing grip of her pleasure taking me with her.
When she could move, she rolled from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the water run. She emerged a minute later, tossing a damp washcloth at me. Without a word, I used it to clean myself up, seeing that she’d done the same in the bathroom. She took my washcloth, dropped it behind her on the bathroom floor, and slid under the covers beside me into her usual position.
Her head rested on my shoulder, her arm across my chest. This time my ring sparkled on the hand casually resting on my chest, the sight of it filling my heart.