Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
He kissed my hips before he lifted me slightly and pressed a kiss to my entrance. I hadn’t shaved in the last two weeks because I’d been too overwhelmed by the news, but he kissed me like he couldn’t care less I wasn’t groomed. He devoured me harder than he devoured my mouth, balancing me above him while his big hands gripped me like he couldn’t squeeze me hard enough.
I dug my hand into his short hair, and I got swept up in his touch, in the fact that this gorgeous man was on his knees for me, that he wanted me when he could have anyone else he wanted.
And something about it made me a little less scared. Actually turned me on a bit, knowing about the life we’d made together inside me that very moment. Something made out of love and passion, something that would outlive us both.
When he rose to his feet, he took me with him, carrying me to the bed and rolling back with me as he remained on top. His eyes took in mine as he adjusted me underneath him, his lips just inches from mine. When he was nestled between my thighs and his hand was deep in my hair, he sank into me, releasing a quiet moan under his breath when he filled me deep. He paused as he felt me, as he took in my eyes and savored the moment like it was the first time our souls touched. Then he started to move inside me, slow and easy. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“I’m gonna be late.” I slapped his hand away as I moved for my purse on the counter.
But he was all over me anyway, pushing up against my back before he guided me to the couch.
When my alarm had gone off that morning, he was buried inside me in record time. It happened so fast, and I got swept up in how damn fine he was that I forgot how little time I had to get out the door. I hopped in the shower and got dressed before I headed downstairs, but he was all over me as if he hadn’t already come inside me once.
“Constantine.”
He got me on my back on the couch and slipped my shoes from my feet. Then he tugged off my jeans and my panties before he bent me into place in the corner of the couch.
“Jesus, what has gotten into you—”
He gave a hard thrust inside me and nailed me like a piston in a car engine. A rough quickie like I was a booty call on a timetable. His sweats were pulled down below his hips, and he pounded into me like I was a whore rather than the woman he loved. “Fuck.” He took me the hardest he ever had, his arms pinning my legs far back. “Yes.” Within thirty seconds, he was finished, blowing his load like it’d been a week rather than thirty minutes since his last lay. He filled me with another load that would soak into my panties at some point while I was at work.
He pulled out of me as soon as he was finished. “All right, now you can go.”
I relaxed my stiff joints, then scrambled for my clothes and shoes. When I looked at the time on my phone, I realized I was already fifteen minutes late. “Shit.”
“Relax, sweetheart.” He smiled like this was all a joke, pulling up his sweatpants and putting on his T-shirt. “It’s not like you can get fired or anything.”
Constantine said he wanted to go out for dinner, so we went into Taormina and stopped by one of his favorite spots, La Napoletana, a restaurant hidden off the main path, up a couple flights of stairs and in a secluded courtyard. He’d taken me there once before, when we were in the throes of our white-hot fling.
We took our seats and looked at the menus. “No fish tonight.” He said it with a smile, teasing me for the comment I’d made a couple nights ago.
I got lost in that smile every time I saw it. He was so unbelievably handsome all the time, but something about his happiness really pulled me in. The light in his eyes, the way his arms and shoulders were relaxed, all the ways he teased me. I’d seen him in a good mood before, but he’d never been this consistently happy.
He was practically bursting at the seams.
“What?” he asked.
“What?” I blurted back, unsure of what he’d said.
“You’re staring.” He continued to smile like it wasn’t an intrusion.
“Oh, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I stare at you all the time. Just wasn’t sure if you had something to say.”
“I’m glad you’ve been so happy . . . just not sure why you’re so happy.” We had just been in our darkest place, him struggling with his depression and me struggling with the fact that I might blow up our relationship when I told him the truth. I guessed the second thing was still an issue, but it didn’t stress me out as much. With every passing day, I accepted the circumstances, and seeing him love me so deeply made me a little scared to tell him.