Page 93 of Worth the Try
“Let me. Please.” These fucking curls. Idreamof her hair.
I pull them to the side, exposing one creamy shoulder and a sea of russet freckles. My cock twitches as I press a kiss to her skin. She hums as I straighten and begin to unzip the dress, inch by delicious inch, revealing more freckles for me to worship, dotted like paint splatters around her back. I breathe her in, delighting in her scent, fresh and darkly floral.
I reach the end of the zipper, and she shrugs it off, turning to me in nothing but her heels. When her doe eyes meet mine, I say, “The shoes stay on.”
She grins, then sits on the edge of the couch, spreading her legs wide. “Come here,” she whispers. When I do, she pushes my pants off, leaving me only in my underwear.
“Black briefs,” she says, shaking her head. “Only you could make these look sexy.”
I smirk. “Gotta give you what you want, Elle.”
She licks her lips. “That is the perfect answer.”
Without another word, she pulls them off. My cock springs free, already leaking and aching for her. She pulls me close, one hand gripping my thigh as the other wraps around the base of my cock as her head lowers.
“Fuck.” I grit the word out, already seeing stars as she takes me to the back of her throat and out again, swirling her tongue along every part of me.
Her hair falls to the side, and I gather it up, wrapping it around my hand and using it to guide her mouth up and down my shaft. She digs her nails into my leg, and I nearly black out from it all. The bite of pain from her nails against the pleasure of her mouth. I look down, and she’s watching me, her eyes never leaving mine as she takes me in over and over.
I’m going to explode.
Pulling her off, I yank her up with a growl. “Bend over.Now.”
I give her all of three seconds before I’ve got her levered over the arm of the couch, raising her hips and shoving a pillow beneath her before spreading her wide. She’s flawless, all soft curves gone taut with want, her back arched, golden-brown curls spilling down her back. I notch into place, but pause. Needing just a moment to pull myself together.
She looks over her shoulder. “Ansel. Give me your cock.”
My chest heaves as my throat tightens. “Whatever you want, baby.”
I slide in, and her head lowers as she lets out a curse. Gripping her hips, I push into her, over and over and over, wanting her to feel every inch of me. Needing it like I need the very breath that’s sawing out of my lungs. Desperate never to stop feeling the way her body clenches around mine, the perfection of it. As though we were made only for each other, made to come together like this.
When she tightens around me and lets out a strangled moan, I go harder. Faster. “Yes. Please don’t stop—please—Ansel—” She cuts off with a yell, coming so hard that my body immediately tumbles after her. My orgasm hits like a freight train, coursing through me like lightning as I give myself over to it.
Stars. I see stars as I pull out and take the few steps to collapse onto the couch. With a satisfied laugh, Elodie falls into my arms.
Chapter 33
Elodie
My dreams are scattered wisps of things. Crows exploding into a winter sky from a mist-covered field. Jumping into a pool and watching the shimmering sun grow smaller as I sink into an endless blue dark. Walking a red carpet into nothing, cameras flashing like a thousand silver flames, cold and heartless, as I reach for a hand that isn’t there.
When I finally wake, warm and safe and tucked into Ansel’s body, I take a moment to breathe. To remember last night. The way he took me over the couch, and later in the bed, near feral with need. The confrontation with Lauren at the gala. The wayI love yourefused to come out of my mouth, no matter how many times I tried last night.
But I do. I love him so much. I want a life with him and Rosalie. I want to wake up every morning and know that the man next to me is the one I’ll be with for the rest of my life. To live a long, happy life together. To play endless games of Marco Polo in the pool, then collapse into each other's arms at night.
I turn, burrowing deeper into his arms and relishing the squeeze he gives in return. He opens his eyes, and the love I see in them is breathtaking. And even though the words remainstuck in my throat, I hope he reads the same love on my face as I look at him.
“Good morning.” His voice is gravelly and low. Sexy.
“Good morning.”
“What time is it?”
With a shrug, I lean up to kiss him, then roll to grab my phone from where it sits on the bedside table. Ansel does the same on his side, and as I wake the screen up, a curse leaves his lips.
“What?” I ask, but I trail off at the notifications. Dozens of them. Texts and alerts from every social media app I have.
Ansel sits up, tension radiating off him as he grabs his glasses and swipes at his phone, stabbing at whatever link is in there. Dread fills my body as I open a text from Kari.
