Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
She’s silent. Unmoving. And when I rest my mouth over the back of her neck and her pulse starts beating against my lips, I register the rhythm.
She’s asleep.
I lie there the entire night, just feeling her heart beating close to mine. Letting every pulse push a little bit more life into me.
6
By sunrise, I’ve not slept, but it’s been the most peaceful night I’ve ever had. Watching her. Listening to her. Feeling her. Deciding what it is I have to do. This thing between us, the uncertainty, the awkwardness, the lack of contact, it needs to end. We can only get past this if Ava can find it in herself, allow herself, to accept the insane connection that knocked us both off balance in the first place.
I shift and crawl on top of her, swathing her with my body, dropping my face into her neck and kissing her awake. My lips haven’t been on her body for so long. “Wake up, baby,” I whisper. “Wake up and let me remind you of how incredible we are together.”
She stirs, moaning, her body stretching beneath me, her lids flickering.
“Morning,” I whisper, suppressing a groan when she unwittingly rolls her hips up at the tail end of her stretch. Her eyes open, and before she has the chance to commence the war between her heart and head, I lift, pulling her up to sit with me. I see the first signs of a sparkle in her eyes. The same sparkle I’ve seen every time we’re intimate, kissing, or even simply touching. “I need to do this,” I say, moving my hands to the hem of her top gingerly, slowly, taking my time. She doesn’t fight me when I peel it over her head, but she’s rigid, despite radiating want. I can smell it. Desperation. I dip and kiss her breastbone, licking my way up to her neck.
“Lace,” I whisper, reaching to unfasten her bra, kissing her everywhere I can reach.
“Jesse, we need to talk.”
“I need you.” I work my way across to her lips and take her mouth softly. Tenderly. Her whimpers are quiet, as if she’s desperately trying to suppress her natural sounds of pleasure.
I feel her withdrawing. “Jesse, please.”
“Baby,” I murmur, resting my palm on her neck and applying pressure, keeping her close. “I do my talking this way.” I can feel her loosening, softening, giving in to the power. “Let me show you.”
She yields, letting me lay her down beneath us, and I kiss her. Slowly. Lovingly. I kiss her like a man should kiss a woman he adores, and there is no question I adore this woman. I leisurely trace my fingertip all over her body, needing to reacquaint myself with every curve, and she holds on to me with firm fingertips digging into my shoulders. I don’t feel a thing. Nothing could get past this oblivion of pleasure. This is exactly what I mean. Lost. Both of us. Peace. For both of us.
Love.
And in this moment, I know, it’s love for both of us.
I push into the mattress with my good hand, getting to my knees, and start pulling her knickers and shorts away. “You need reminding.”
“This is not the conventional way,” she says on an exhale, gazing up at me, her words contradicting her squirming. I smile to myself. There’s nothing conventional about Ava and me. Not one thing.
“It’s how I do things, Ava.” I yank her up to me, our flesh slapping on impact, and I take her mouth hungrily. “We need to make friends.”
She’s with me. One hundred percent with me. I feel the remnants of her restraint snap and she’s quickly grappling at my boxers, shoving them down. My gratitude leaves me on a deep moan, my dick breaking free, and I take us back down to the sheets, lying beside her, the perfect position to kiss her and feel her. Her foot is suddenly in the waist of my boxers, pushing them the rest of the way. I shift my feet, wriggling them to be free of the material, my tongue relentless in her mouth. Her hands are in my hair, her tongue matching the lazy swirling motions of mine. The devotion being communicated in this moment is inexplicable, and the emotion clogging my throat catches me by surprise. Jesus, I can’t cry. I can’t appear to be any weaker than I am. And yet feeling our love, even if it’s not yet been spoken, is washing away the pain—both physical and emotional. Or is it just papering over the cracks?
I swallow and pull away, immediately sinking my face into her neck to buy myself some time, taking my hand to between her thighs and dragging it slowly up her body. “I’ve missed you, baby.” I can hardly speak past the blockage in my throat. “I’ve missed you so much.” She’s been here, but she hasn’t been here. But she’s here now, in all of her beautiful, powerful, healing glory.