Page 98 of Tears of Glass

He pauses to lock up and I slip out of his embrace, my fingers slipping over the buttons of his shirt, gliding over the smooth skin I find underneath.

He’s mine.

Tomorrow we will wake and there will be nothing holding us back, and the day after that, and the day after that.

I unhook his suit trousers pushing them over his hips with his boxers and he stands stock still as I strip him down to nothing more than skin and bone. I think of Rodin’s Kiss, two lovers intertwined with delicate passion. Stepping back from Eli, I pull my oversized sweatshirt over my head and discard it on the floor, left only in my knickers. We watch one another; his eyes absorb my ink, the patterns and swirls he is beginning to know so well. My eyes skim down his tall frame at the hidden strength that lurks beneath, the steely determination and power that has overwhelmed me from the moment we met. Between us, his erection stands proud and dominating and an almost painful heat tingles between my legs.

“Take me.” I hold his gaze. “Everything I am I give to you.”

His gaze is deep, depths of understanding and desire. His arms sweep me back up and he takes us to his bed, placing me with delicate care on the mattress.

“Lay still.” His words burn through me, awakening my body. My nipples stand to attention before they’ve even been touched and the heat between my legs grows until I want to rub them together to ease the sting.

His gaze drops to my feet, to the delicate chain of daisies I have there around my ankles that travels up my thigh. The further his searching stare rises, the hotter my body becomes. When he reaches the soft mound of hair at the apex of my thighs, I scrunch the sheets between my hands, willing myself not to move. He leans forward and pushes my legs apart, his hands on my calves. I want to fight him, want to hide myself. I’ve never been stared at this way, not even with my art work on my skin. No one has ever searched for the me underneath—not until him.

Leaning down, his nose skims up the tip of my thigh, and I know what he’s going to do. I want it, want him desperately. He moves so slow I lift my hips off the bed. Put your tongue there already. “Lay still.”

I fall back with his words, succumbing to his direction and in reward he strokes his firm tongue between my folds, freeing my clit and teasing it with a gentle suck of his lips. I whimper, trying hard not to squirm my hips.

The next stroke is stronger, deeper, and when he centres back on my core, he circles his tongue, pulsing and playing. His hands slip under my arse and he lifts me, widening my legs so his tongue can thrust deep within me, flicking and delving while his teeth graze my hardened bud. “Oh, God.” A wave of an orgasm threatens to pull me down, but I fight it off. I don’t want this to end. I try not to concentrate on its lulling pull, but it’s hard when he’s devouring me with his mouth. When I can’t hang on and that wave is edging higher and higher and my hands are dragging at the sheets he pulls away, lifting me with strong hands. Like a puppet, I follow his command. I’m dying. I want him. Need him. He pulls me closer, his lips on my mouth. The musky taste of my juices tingle against my lips. I straddle his lap and he pushes me down on his erection and slowly slides deep. My legs and arms wrap around him tight and I push my hips with a gentle rhythm. My face is pressed into his neck, his hands run along my spine, but it’s slow and sweet. The wave builds again, and I lean back. His eyes burn as I position myself where he can go so deep it is on the verge of pain.

I can’t hold it.

It’s too much.

His fingers tangle in my hair, his palm against my cheek. “Scream my name.”

I do. It pours out of me.

He throws me back onto the bed, ramming himself to the hilt, his own groans deepening with every thrust of his hips.

“Faith,” he pants my name like a prayer as his mouth crashes into mine and his back arches.

When he’s done, he collapses on me, his breath coming hard. I’m shivering with aftershocks and release. His lips skim my neck and trail to my mouth, then he looks back, his eyes holding mine.

“I’m going to love you forever.”

The promise is deep and unflinching and I know he will.

I don’t say a word. The tears slipping from my eyes say it all.

Chapter Twenty-Six

He’s gone when I wake, a note left on his pillow. Love you, Sunshine.

I roll over in bed and grab my phone, dialling his number.

“Please tell me you haven’t just woken up.”

“Maybe.” What’s the point in lying?

He chuckles, and it darts desire all over my skin.

“We didn’t get a chance to talk last night,” I say.

“That depends on your definition of talking.”

“You know, words that come out of your mouth.”