Page 134 of Micah
Even as I pray she won’t.
Please don’t tell me no.
And she doesn’t.
She never once pulls back.
Never once looks uncertain.
Instead, she watches me with those warm brown eyes, and every wall I've spent years building around my heart starts crumbling.
“Fuck,” I hiss when flesh meets flesh.
The word slips out before I can catch it.
Not from lust alone.
From awe.
From gratitude.
From the overwhelming realization that the woman I've been quietly, hopelessly falling for is standing here, letting me touch her.
I peel the fabric away, and what I see steals my breath.
Every soft curve.
Every freckle.
Every inch of her she's probably spent years believing wasn't enough.
She is all peaches and cream skin with freckles dancing across her tip tilted breasts.
Her nipples are puckered, and the skin there is darker.
I want to taste it.
Hell, I’m fucking salivating for her.
She is easily the most beautiful woman I've ever known.
And my chest feels painfully tight.
I want to possess her.
To make her mine.
To shield her from the horrors of the world.
To keep her with me.
Always.
And I suddenly understand the weight of the trust she's placing in me.
It's humbling.
Terrifying.
