Page 75 of When You Stayed
“I think I’ve been yours, Ford, for a lot longer than you realize.” I searched his face before pushing on his chest. He followed my direction, lying down on his back so I could straddle him. His boxers were slid down low enough to free his cock, and with my eyes on his, he helped me sink down onto him.
Our palms met right as I slid my hips forward, and then our fingers interlaced.
“Who knew all this time, Rose, you’d fit my cock perfectly.” His voice was rough as our pace quickened and his erection filled me so intensely that my spread legs quaked with every leisurely shift forward.
My breathing came out ragged as I replied, “Don’t remind me how much time you wasted on that grudge, Ford. I’m still trying to forgive you.”
His humming reply was interrupted when he curled forward and wrapped his mouth around my nipple. The feel of his hot mouth against me sent a shockwave of heat through me. My hips canted briskly as my orgasm built once more, my breathing was short and my hands flew from Ford’s to the back of his head where I held him in place. His eyes slid up, latching on to mine while a cunning smile crested his lips as he slid his tongue over my pebbled nipple.
“Forgive me, Rose. Fuck, please forgive me because I can’t ever walk away from this.”
“No.” I pulled his face up and slammed my mouth against his. “No walking away.”
Our movements became frantic, tense, and desperate. My cries grew as his cock hit home harder and harder with each passing roll of the hips. Our mouths connected in a frenzy as his groans echoed, andmy cry shredded my lungs. My head tipped back as my orgasm shook my limbs, wringing me tight only to let me freefall. Ford licked up the column of my neck right as his arms circled my waist in a viselike grip.
He froze for a second while he held me to him, and then after a few slow pumps, his face rested against my bare chest, and his breathing came out in small bursts. “Holy shit.”
Holy shit, indeed. “That was incredible,” I rasped, still feeling boneless and light. Ford helped me slide off him, and I instantly snuggled into one of his pillows. He rolled and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Maybe no shirt tonight, I want you exactly like this.”
I was starting to drift, but I remembered him coming into the room with a warm rag to clean me up, then he pulled the blankets up over my shoulders before sliding in next to me.
“Is this weird for you?” I whispered into the dark, feeling sleep begin to drag me under.
He waited a second or two, but eventually Ford replied, “No, Rose, it’s not weird. It’s everything.”
EIGHTEEN
ROYCE
Ford slept on his stomach,with his dark lashes fanning his peaceful face. It took me back to when we were kids, camping or at a random sleepover, and I’d see him asleep. I never cared if his lashes looked sooty and thick, or how his back looked, and certainly there was never any ink to obsess over.
I’d been awake for what seemed like hours, but I was too comfortable to move. More so, I was too enthralled with memorizing each and every piece of ink I could find on Ford’s body. It was like a little treasure hunt. Along his ribs, he had a few poems from various periods of history. There was a space reserved for his last name, and the club patch. He had a familiar-looking field tattooed onto his arm, it looked like the one outside my house.
Then there was the one of two blue eyes, encased in lashes, seemingly staring. Somehow, I knew they were mine. A random piece of golden hair, with a poem tumbling down the strands.
My favorite addiction. You break me, and I still crave.
Another that rounded a pair of pink lips:You dare me to taste, I dare you to confess.
Intricate pieces of heartache and pain that painted his torso, andseemingly grew fingers, reaching for my heart. I wanted so badly to go back in time and read that stupid Christmas card. I wanted back the time that was stolen from us.
A burning sensation began in my nose as I let my fingers trace over one last design. It was a flower, one that looked so much like a wildflower, but there was something distinctly different about it. I used the browser on my phone to scan the image to tell me what it was.
Wild rose.
My chest nearly caved at how faded the lines were, and how he must have had this ink staining his skin for a long time. This confession permanently stamped into his future, regardless of who he ended up with. He’d tainted his entire body with traces ofme.
I was in nearly every design that outlined his form. The muscles that shifted under his skin would have to do so with the reminder that I was branded on his heart. Ford lied about his crush, and the love he had for me. He’d never stopped.
“Why are you crying?” His raspy voice broke into the quiet, while his warm hand gripped my hip. I was barely clinging to the sob that was stuck in my throat.
“I’m not.”
His head lifted, his assessing gaze searching my face for the lie. “You are. Are you regretting last night?”
My hand shot out to his jaw, holding it and caressing the soft beard that was growing there. “Not even close. I hate that we could have been here sooner. I hate that I didn’t read that card, Ford. I hate that I hurt you. I was so…” I was unsure how to even explain it. “I used to come over to your house just for a chance that you’d notice me. I would actually ask if I could clean for your mom, do you remember that?”
His rumble of laughter made the tension in my chest feel lighter. He resumed his spot in bed, lying down then pulling me against his chest. “She had a housekeeper who helped with the deep cleaning who came once a week. But I think she knew what you were doing because Ellie mentioned it. Said she thought you had a crush on me.”
