Page 26 of Forever Mine
“You gave me your heart and your love.”
Just as I say it, “Halo” starts playing. One of the songs I consider ours because the lyrics speak the truth of how I feel about him.
“Just so you know,” he hushes, laying his head on my shoulder, “I miss you, too.”
We let the song surround us as we sway from side to side. Elijah’s lips seek mine, the first stroke of his tongue like velvet and has my heart rate accelerating. Every time he kisses me islike lightning in a bottle. That instant jolt of pure electricity that sings through my blood, heightening every synapse until all I feel is him.
“Raise your arms for me, baby.”
He lifts them over his head, and I bunch the fabric of his cotton shirt, sliding it up and off. Warm, tanned skin greets my hands when they gravitate to the vees that demarcate his tight, defined abs.
“You are so fucking gorgeous,” I tell him, using the pads of my fingers like a paintbrush to chart the ridges and valleys of muscle.
He bites down on his full bottom lip when it starts to wobble. “I love the way you touch me.”
Grazing his nipples, I reply, “I love touching you.”
I temper my own runaway desire and take my time undressing him, allowing my hands and lips free rein over his body. His moans grow louder as I lick up his inner thigh to his impossibly hard cock.
“So wet for me.”
I thumb over the tip, smearing the precum that drips out like pearls of candy. I lap up every drop.
He fists my hair. “Julien, for fuck’s sake,” he whimpers.
I brace his trembling legs and tongue his shaft. “Yes?”
I take him into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat. I swallow, and he moans my name. Loudly.
His grip tightens in my hair, holding me in place so he can fuck my face.
But I don’t let him come. Not yet.
He releases a flurry of obscenities when I suddenly pull away and band my arms around his thighs.
“Such a dirty mouth from my sweet angel.”
He grunts when my shoulder connects with his stomach.
“You’re a cock tease,” he grumbles.
I spank his ass, and he squirms. Another kink he likes.
Easily bearing his weight, I rise to my feet with him in a pseudo fireman’s carry.
He shakes with deep laughter. “You need to stop carrying me everywhere.”
“Easiest way to make you do what I want,” I reply and haul him into the bathroom.
More candles. More rose petals. Bending slightly, I test the temperature of the bath I had prepared just before he came home. Still hot. Not as hot as I’d like, but it’ll do.
He contorts so he can see behind him. “You made me a bath?”
I set Elijah on his feet, grinning at his disbelief, and strip out of my shirt and shorts.
“Part of the pampering.”
I take his hand and help him into the tub, then step in after him. The garden tub is big enough to accommodate the two of us—one of the reasons why I claimed the back bedroom. It’s the master. More square footage, larger walk-in closet, bigger en suite with double sinks, a shower, and a big-ass tub.
