Page 28 of Broken Strings
"Grayson!" I sob, my back bowing off the bed.
He moans against me like he's just tasted heaven itself. "Fuck, baby. You're even sweeter than I remembered. So goddamn perfect."
And then he's lost in me, devouring me with an intensity that steals my breath. He's everywhere—sucking on my clit, thrusting deep inside to stroke all those places that make me see stars, sliding through my folds to lick up every drop I spill for him.
He's a man possessed, driven by the unrelenting need to reclaim every part of me. The way he makes love to me is…beautiful. Transcendent. Every flick of his tongue, each press of his lips, is an act of worship. He showers me with devotion, pouring every ounce of his love and longing into pleasuring me.
He leaves me mindless, reduced to gasps and broken cries of his name. And still, he doesn't stop. The pleasure goes on and on, an endless sea of ecstasy.
Pressure builds until I'm dangling on the edge of a knife, my body taut and trembling, desperate to plunge over the side into forever. Into that perfect, peaceful place only he's ever been able to take me.
He flicks his gaze up, his eyes meeting mine.
"I love you forever, Mina."
His tongue swirls around my clit…and I fall, screaming, into oblivion. Into him. Into us. Always, into us.
Chapter Nine
Priest
Iwatch Mina's face as she loses herself in the pleasure. She's fucking beautiful as she comes undone for me, shattering into pieces. Ecstasy sears her expression, lighting her up like a supernova as she arches beneath me, her mouth open in a soundless cry.
It's the most beautiful thing I've seen next to the sight of her standing beside our daughter. Christ, I'd kill for this woman. Diefor her. Fell fucking armies for her. My soul is hers, bound so tightly to her that not even six years in hell was even to sever the connection. Nothing ever will. I won't allow it.
We're like the old broken strings I used to play with. When I lived on the streets, I couldn't afford to replace the damn things when they broke. Everyone says it can't be done, that they're never the same. But I figured that shit out. When something matters enough, you find a way. And this right here? Me and her? We matter.
The tension may have snapped us, but right here, right now, we're mending us back into place. The sound may be subtly different when we're done. We may have new grooves. But we still play just the same. We still love the same.
That's all that matters. It's the only thing that matters.
And it's the only thing I'm thinking about when I crawl up her body, pressing my lips to hers. Love. I fucking love her. Now, I get to show her.
At least, that's the plan.
Apparently, she has other ideas. Because as soon as my lips touch hers, she places her hands against my shoulders and pushes, forcing me backward.
"Baby, what's—?"
That's as far as I get before she's sitting up beneath me, still pushing against my shoulders. My eyes lock on hers, and I see the gleam in her eyes. My goddamn mouth goes dry.
"It's my turn now, Grayson," she says.
I don't tell her no. Christ, no. I let her push me down onto my back and stretch out my legs, my hands locked together behind my head. If my wife wants to have her way with me, who the fuck am I to stop her? No one, that's who.
She settles on her knees beside my hip like a pretty little angel, her hands in her lap, her wild hair cascading over her shoulder."Where should I start?" she teases, her tongue tucked into the side of her cheek.
"Oh, I can think of a few places," I mutter.
She smirks at me, her hand darting out to settle over my erection. "You mean here?" she asks, squeezing gently.
I groan, arching into her touch as precum spills into my boxers. "Fuck, yeah. Right there, Mina. Right fucking there."
Her little laugh has my heart rolling over in my chest. She squeezes me again, her eyes lighter than they've been in days.
Fuck, I missed this playful side of her. She was always so playful back then, always so fucking happy. I want to give her back the security to let herself feel this again. She deserves it, more than anyone I've ever met.
Her other hand drifts up my abdomen, her eyes practically glowing when my muscles contract beneath her palm, reacting to the electric feel of her hand on my body.