“Oh crap,” I whisper. I suck in a deep breath and am treated to his delicious scent.
“You’re not ready,” he says with a soft nod. But I am. I’m more than ready. I’m just not as good at these big declarations as he is. It takes me a minute to catch up to him. He keeps blindsiding me with these amazing, wonderful, unexpected declarations of love that I almost don’t believe it’s real. But nothing could possibly be any more real than Jameson and me and our love. So even though I never expected it to be this good, and for it to happen like this for me, I believe it. I force myself to feel every word.
I want you to move in with me.
Say yes when I ask you to marry me.
Take my last name.
Have my babies.
He’s still rubbing himself against me so slowly, so carefully, and it’s not enough. I move my legs farther apart, and with the pressure and easier access, he rubs against my clit. I want to let my head fall backward, but he’s still keeping it upright so he can gaze into my eyes. I take a chance he might not like and hook one of my legs around his hip and pull myself up. The hand on the back of my head relocates to under my other leg as he hoists me up, and I wrap myself around his waist.
“I need to feel you,” I whisper against his lips. He adjusts so he’s leaning against my dressing table for support. “You can put a condom on in a minute, but for just this moment, I want only you.”
He adjusts his grip on me, giving me some freedom to seek him out, and when I finally get him where I want him, he holds me firmly in place, not letting me slide down. He’s at my entrance, and I’m ready, so ready for him. Jameson arches his back, and with a shaky arm, he holds me up while his other hand finds my folds. He rubs my clit with a slow, purposeful softness that has me clenching so tight that he almost slips out of my entrance. I buck against him and slide down half an inch. He’s concentrating so hard on his efforts, so aware of what he’s doing to my body, that when my body starts that climb toward combustion and I don’t think he’s ever going to lower me onto him, he begins to slide me down. Just as I start shaking, he slams me down, fully encasing him in my body, and he holds me to him tightly.
“Bed,” he grunts and takes a deep breath as he shudders. We stay still for a moment before he walks us to my bed. He lays me down so slowly, careful not to lose our connection, and stands at the edge.
I prop my feet up with my legs spread as wide as I can to give him the best access possible. I put my hands beneath my head so it’s tilted enough to watch as he slides in and out of me. My eyes lift and find he’s watching us, too. He must sense it—that I can’t take my eyes off of him—because he looks up and has to bite his lip as he holds my hips tighter and swirls his hips to create pleasant ripples that spread through my body.
“I love you so much,” I whisper and shudder at the same time. I don’t know if he even understands what I’m trying to say. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”
He slides his thumb up and down my clit again, and it’s no time at all before I’m grasping at the sheets.
“I have to watch this,” he murmurs as he watches me fall apart and explode and surrender to his touch. I break apart again and again with tremors that won’t quit. I’m gasping for breath and slowly coming down when his thighs tighten and his movements falter just slightly. Frantically, he pulls out and with two firm strokes, he’s coming on my stomach. His eyes are closed, and he swallows hard. I want to touch him, to help him through it, but can’t bring myself to move. He’s big, bigger than I thought he’d be. I felt him, for sure, but I guess I didn’t really look at his size until now.
He finishes and moves to turn around, but I hook a foot around his leg and urge him to lay with me. I catch sight of a large tattoo on his back, and now I’m more determined than ever to keep him here.
“I have to clean you up,” he says thoughtfully.
“Later. I like having your mark on me,” I say. He smiles, something predatory flashes across his face, and he curls up beside me. I tangle my legs in with him and rest my head on his chest.
We stay like this for a long while, neither wanting to get up, until we decide to start round two in the shower. It’s in there that I get the full magnitude of his beautiful tattoo in intricate detail. It’s a replication of his badge, right down to the imperfections from years of wear and tear.