Page 86 of One Kiss Isn't Enough
Pinning my wrists above my head, he nearly kisses my lips, but he moves to suck the arousal off my fingertips before our lips touch. The light, warm feeling is a stark contrast to his hard cock pressed into my thigh.
I try to writhe under him, but he keeps me still as he takes his time. The second he braces his forearm beside my head and positions himself, I suck in a deep breath and stare into his dark eyes.
He enters me slowly, torturously so. Taking his time to stretch me. The gentle sting elicits an instant heated wave that forces my back to arch. He doesn’t stop, he just pushes in deeper and stays there, pressing against my walls and forcing my lips to form a perfect O.
Still inside of me, he tells me, “Because I want to grow old with you. I want everything you want, whatever it is, because it’ll make you happy. I want my family to love you and protect you, in case something ever happens to me.
“You don’t want those things unless you love that person. I love you more than I love myself, Addison. I need you to know that.”
I only know I’m crying because he bends down to kiss the tears.
When his lips finally brush against mine, I steal them, kissing him hard and with the passion I have for him, for what’s between us.
With his left hand still pinning my wrists down, he ravages me, a savage taking of what’s his. I scream my pleasure into his mouth, letting the strangled moans take over when my climax hits me with a force I’ve never felt before.
It’s all consuming. It’s everything I’ve wanted and needed and the only thing I’ll ever crave for as long as I live. Because it’s him.
ADDISON
“It’s a pretty ring.” The timid voice carries across the large kitchen. “Blue under it; that’s unique. Is it a blue diamond?”
I didn’t even hear her walk in. As I stirred the sugar into my coffee, watching the white swirl of steam, I was focused on the ache between my thighs and the memory of Daniel kissing me all over last night.
He only left me to get the ring from my nightstand and to put it on my finger. If this ring ever comes off my hand, it’ll be because someone took it from my grave.
“It is. It reminds me of forget-me-nots,” I answer her. “That’s why we went with this one.”
“You picked out your ring together?”
“I know it’s not traditional?—”
“What is anymore?” she says and shrugs. “If you haven’t guessed, I’m Bethany.” The smile she gives me reaches her eyes.
I laugh, short and with a single breath. It’s genuine. “I guessed as much,” I answer her with a smile.
It’s only us in the kitchen and as she pulls out one of the tall chairs at the island, the sound carries through the open space.
“First, I want to say hi. Second, I want to say I’m sorry. Jase told me…about the baby.”
My little piece of heaven splinters, but only slightly as I take my seat.
“Thank you,” I answer her.
Holding on to my mug of coffee, I pull it up to my lips to keep me from saying more. The warmth billows into my face as I take a long sip, praying for composure.
I don’t want to break down. Especially not in front of her, someone I don’t know. This…Bethany Fawn. I don’t know that I’ll ever be okay with losing our baby. Especially if we never get pregnant again, if we never have a little one to hold. I don’t see how it’s possible. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that either.
“I heard you got a ring too,” I say as I lift a brow and when her gaze catches mine, I make a note of staring down at her ring finger. She pulls her hand into her chest with a blush rising to her cheeks.
“It was a shock, to be honest,” she answers but the content note in her voice and the smile on her face remain the same. “We’re quite different…Jase and I,” she adds when I look questioningly at her.
“Yes, they are…different. That’s a word for it.” We could write a book about the Cross brothers and how different they are. There’s a time and place for that conversation though. “So Jase told me your last name is Fawn?”
“It is.”
“Mother or father?” I ask her and then shake my head as I let out a sigh at my ridiculousness. “This isn’t an inquisition. I’m just… I’m very curious.”
“It’s fine,” she responds and then she leans forward on the chair to rest on the counter. Her thin cream sweater is pushed up to her elbows. Paired with her dark blue jeans, it’s a simple look, but something about this woman screams that she’s anything but simple.