His eyes narrowed. “You think so little of me? Of yourself?”
I tried to drop my shame-filled gaze, but Elliot just tilted my head back to recapture it. A gust of breath rushed from my lips.
“Sometimes. Not of you, but myself. The thing is, I’ve done nothing to improve my situation, and you’ve done everything. Hearing the way West and Luca were talking about us…I guess I saw where they were coming from.”
He jerked me hard against him and shoved his fingers deep into my hair. “Shut up, Catherine. You just had a baby all on your own and are the best mother I have ever known. I was attracted to you from the second I saw you, but watching your tender confidence with Josephine has deepened my feelings for you to a level I didn’t know I was capable of. Weston and Luca have never seen me this way, which I’m choosing to believe is another explanation for their doubt. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”
I took in what he was saying and wrapped it around my fragile heart like a dryer-warmed blanket. I wasn’t a surrogate mother to save. Elliot was with me because of who I was.
And that made me want to be better. For him, for me, for Joey-Girl.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I hear you, Elliot.”
He drew my mouth to his and kissed me roughly, his teeth digging into my bottom lip hard enough to elicit a whimper.
“I never want to hear you disrespecting yourself that way again. You and I are together because we want to be with each other. Isn’t that true?” His tone was demanding, but behind it was this sliver of vulnerability, a need to be reassured he wasn’t alone in what he felt.
“Yeah, it’s true.” I trailed my fingers along his nape and into the bottom of his hair. “I’ve never been this deep with anyone else either, and I really like it.”
“I really like you.” His eyes raked over me as he held me a little too tight. “Give me your mouth, sweetheart.”
I pressed my mouth to his, and his sigh filled my chest. Curling my arms around him, I kissed him with the care I sensed he needed, showing him I was here, that I’d heard him and we were solid with each other no matter what went on around us.
We kissed until we were breathless and lay together on the couch. Wedged between Elliot and the cushions, I was so secure and snug I could have stayed there kissing him for hours.
We kissed in between removing our clothes.
Bare, we wrapped ourselves around one another and kissed as our skin melded.
Kissed and kissed and kissed while he slowly slid into me.
Our mouths finally broke apart so he could look down at me. His elbows were braced on either side of my head, and we were inches apart. His hips rolled against mine in smooth strokes. I held his face, his shoulders, his arms.
My heart thudded, rattling my ribs. I was falling so hard for this man, and I wanted to be a woman he’d be proud to have on his arm—that no one would question why he would want to be with me. I couldn’t lose this. His warmth, care, devotion. He was so important to me. Becoming vital.
Our panting breaths mingled, and our eyes stayed locked as we rode wave after wave of pleasure. He stretched me wide, split me open, found parts of me I hadn’t known were lost.
I dug into his shoulders, muscles rippling under my fingertips.
He caressed my breasts until they were tingling and dripping, then tore away from my eyes to dip his head and lick my wet skin.
Still, he went slow but not gentle. He was far too big, too powerful, to ever call the way he took me “gentle.”。 But he was careful, methodical, drawing it out as long as he could.
“Elliot,” I breathed.
“Mmm.” He lifted his head and pressed his lips to mine, sweet with my milk and his own taste. “I’ve got you, my good girl.”
“You do. You do have me,” I told him because it was true. I was his now. Couldn’t imagine ever being anyone else’s after this.
I’d make sure there was no “after this.”
Eventually, his hips snapped against mine, and our cries grew more frantic. Skin warmed, misted with sweat and milk, my inner walls fluttered and swelled, and my outer walls crumbled. My body welcomed his to my hidden depths, and he dragged me along with him to the precipice.
There, we kissed again. Lips, tongues, teeth.
Clawing, grasping, panting, needing. We were wrapped in each other, arms and legs like bands, tied up, so we stayed tethered as we shook. So close, there was no air except what we exchanged in gasps and pants. No light except what was in his eyes when he opened them and focused on me. Even when they were closed, his focus was on me. Always on me.