Relieved, I nod, “We hurt her, Easton.”
“We hurt a lot of people, but the only two we need to be worrying about right now are in this room.”
“Right,” I agree, temporarily letting that guilt go and clasping my hands around his neck. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Beauty,” his eyes glitter down on me, “so fucking much. Now,” he says, sliding a palm down my stomach and into my panties, slipping a few fingers inside me, just as his thumb begins to slowly massage my clit, “about these buttons.”
He kisses me, and all outside thoughts melt away, as do the rest of our clothes. The second Easton has me ready, he turns me to lay on my stomach and drags me to the edge of the bed. One hand gripping the back of my neck, he lifts my leg, propping my bent knee on the mattress. His breath hits my ear as his words set my body alight. “Just so you know, I missed this pussy so much. I plan on working a lot of overtime.” With that, he buries himself to the hilt. Stretched in a mix of pain and pleasure, I call out to him as a groan bursts from his own lips. Wasting no time, he angles his hips, pushing in impossibly further. He drives his point home as he squeezes the back of my neck, claiming words pouring from his lips, “For me.”
“Forever,” I pant out as he leaves us locked. Tilting his pelvis, he grinds into me with expert precision, hitting me just so. Not long after, I’m convulsing around him, ecstasy-laced words and praises pouring from me. He milks my orgasm until I go boneless, whispering my love. Withholding his own release, he slowly turns me over, lust taking up his expression as he rears his hips back and slowly pushes in, eyes hooding as he watches the stretch he’s creating. Rapt, his focus remains on where we connect before his eyes light a trail of fire up my body, seeking and holding mine. We get lost in our stare, and it’s there we hurdle over the rest of our separation in the last year, our struggle to get to this point, so painful, so heart-wrenching but so incredibly—
“Worth it,” he finishes because he’s thinking the same thing.
My best friend.
My lover.
My forever.
Covered in a sheen of sweat, Easton keeps my leg hooked on his hip with his palm as he thrusts into me with abandon, shifting his angle to hit me exactly where I need him to. Within seconds, I’m coiled and ready.
“Give it up, Beauty,” he pants, just before my body obeys, heart thundering in my ears as pleasure pulses through me. Groaning through his own release, he pulses inside while kissing me breathless.
Collapsing onto his back, he pulls me to cover his upper half and turns to catch the light filtering in behind the curtain. His lips lift in a grin.
“What?” I ask.
“Is it sunrise or sunset?”
“Morning…definitely morning.”
The truth is, neither of us has any clue at this point. We haven’t left our room or opened the thick curtains to gauge time, but instead spent it all making up for what we lost before losing track of it altogether.
What I am sure of is that I don’t want to return to the world yet, nor do I want to share the man I’m holding hostage just as much as he is me.
The difference now is that I’m not dreading the return, not at all—just prolonging it. Easton traces my skin before running a finger over the faint pink scar along my breast.
“What happened here?”
Lifting, I gaze down at him apprehensively, not wanting to alter the calm in his expression. Sitting, I pull a pillow onto my naked lap. “If I tell you, you can’t freak out and get all…well, you—or use it against me in the future to fuel your paranoia.”
“That’s a lot of demands,” his grin disappears, and his stare hardens slightly. “Did someone hurt you? If so, all fucking bets are off.”
I shake my head. “There he is, the paleolithic man I married.”
“And will be marrying again in the very near future.”
“Just give me the date and time.”
He again runs the pad of his finger across my scar. “Answer me. Did someone hurt you?”
“Just the opposite, someone saved me.” I caress his jaw as he draws his brows. “Actually, it was the damn ding, ding, ding from my Prince Phillip.”
“Baby, you good?” He scrutinizes me, “Did I fuck you too hard? Did you hit your head on the board?”
Hello, Easton’s sexy as fuck half-grin. God, how I’ve missed you.
“And who the hell is Prince Phillip?” He bites out. “The English Queen’s deceased husband is haunting you?”