Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Chris moans as he moves, slow and deliberate thrusts, like he’s trying to memorize me from the inside. I look down at his chiseled abs and the brutal v-taper leading down to where we link.
And for the first time since I’ve known him, Chris is fully naked before me. Not just his body, but him.
I can feel the want and lust, but I can also sense just how alone this man has been. How his code and discipline have isolated him from a life worth living. But now, I’m changing that for him.
His lips move up my neck, kissing along my jaw and to my lips, before he’s staring me straight in the eyes, sealing me in place with a new intensity.
“I love you,” he says.
The words come out rough and unpracticed, like he’s never said them before. And I know he hasn’t. This man has never told a woman he loves her in his life.
Just me. The eighteen-year-old with the too-loud laugh and dreams of being a photographer.
Joy grips me like a vise. Tears slide down my face and onto the pillow. “I love you too, Chris.”
He groans, giving himself fully to me. His strong hands slide down my body and grip my hips, angling me upward. The new position is so deep I cry out. He fills me completely, pumping faster, again and again, his forehead against mine, our lips a hair’s breadth apart.
“Say it again,” he whispers, his voice wrecked. “Please.”
I smile, crying as he fucks me passionately, my legs wrapped around him, pulling him as close as he can be, which is not close enough.
“I love you.”
He reacts, driving his hips harder, deeper, causing a tension to build inside me, a knot low in my belly that grows with every stroke. I buck back against him, inhaling his scent, pressing my tongue against his neck to taste his delicious sweat.
Violent lust sweeps through me like a tornado, causing my hips to rise up like an animal begging for more. As he grinds his body against mine, his skin massages my clitoris, enhancing the sensations, pushing me further and further.
“Oh God, oh God…” I whimper, feeling the swollen tip of his thick length find a spot within me that causes my jaw to drop.
My tightness clenches down on him as I feel him swell inside me, his girth threatening to split me in two.
That sensation comes back. Unknown. Unfamiliar. It’s primal. Something I know women are supposed to feel, but already? I know things are moving fast between us, but should I really be feeling that? Now?
“Come with me,” he growls. I nod feverishly. “I’m gonna fill you up, Avery. Put a baby in you.”
I fracture. Chris, you can read my mind.
My heart springs in my chest. My whole body seizes, my back arches, and my walls clamp down around his thick, pulsing rod. He said it.
A baby. Family.
That’s commitment to a full life with me. No turning back.
“Yes, get me pregnant,” I plead with him as I go off, my eyes wide, the blue light streaming in across the ocean as we writhe together as one. “I’ll have your baby, Chris.”
My whole body throbs with waves of love, lust, and relief. I can’t do anything but hang on for dear life as he sprays his precious seed into me, heat whipping through my veins.
Love overtakes me.
I moan his name, over and over as he finishes inside me and his body stiffens. He ruts deep, hands on my breasts, lips on mine, digging deep in me until we both finish. Together.
Sobbing, I wrap my arms around him and pull his face down to my neck. After a long moment, his breathing steadies.
“I’m going to give you that life, Avery,” he says with certainty, kissing me with pure ownership.
“You already are,” I whisper back. “Right now.”
He lifts his head and looks at me with those ice-blue eyes, finally stripped of every defense, every mask he’s ever worn. Now he’s just a man. My man. And he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world.
I pull him down on me, and for the first time since we met, he truly sleeps.
EPILOGUE
AVERY
Five years later…
My husband is burning the eggs yet again.
I can smell it from the couch where I’m editing photos on my laptop, my coffee going cold beside me. Smoke curls from the stove, and Chris curses under his breath and quickly scrapes the pan.
I just smile. This has to be the part of the morning I love most.
Not the eggs. Chris’s eggs are still terrible. Five years of marriage and the man still can’t get the temperature on the pan right. He can pick a lock in nine seconds, disarm a state-of-the-art security system, and rebuild a house from the ground up. But scrambled eggs are his Kryptonite.