My cheeks pinked. “You kept me satisfied well enough last night.”
His chocolate gaze turned dark and rich. “You too.” He licked his lips. “Last night was…” He sighed with a little huff of indescribable bliss. It made my stomach flutter and heart leap for joy. “It was amazing, Della.”
He kissed me again, distracting me from another niggling question.
He noticed, nipping my bottom lip before pulling away with a resigned look. “Something else?”
“Umm…” I shrugged. “I need to ask you something.”
His frown spread. “Ask me.”
“I know we’re both surviving on no sleep with no small amount of shock for what we’ve done but...”
“But…”
“Well, after fighting your feelings for me for so long. Now we’ve, eh, crossed those boundaries, are you still happy?” I ducked my gaze. “Are you happy you—”
“Ah, Della.” Scooping me into strong arms, he rested his chin on my head. “I was honest with how I struggled to come to terms with loving you this way, and now, I’ll be honest again.” His voice dropped to a smoky murmur. “For the first time, I don’t care about any of it. I can stand here with my head proud and tell the sun to go guilt-trip someone else for a change. Last night was the best night of my life with the only person I have ever loved. As far as I’m concerned, it was the first time for both of us. No one else compares because no one else ever came close to how I feel about you. And now that I know who you are beneath that bossy, brilliant girl I raised, you’re in trouble because having you once won’t be enough. Having you twice or three times or even a lifetime will never be enough, do you hear me?”
Pulling back, he stared as deep as he could into my heart. “I’m not just in love with you, Della. You’re the only reason I’m alive. Loving you gave me purpose. And now you’ve completed me by giving me something I never dared dream of, so to answer your question, yes, I’m happy. So fucking happy I’m going to explode.”
I shivered in his arms. “Okay then. Good.”
“Fine.” He grinned.
I raised my chin, my eyes fixating on his beautiful lips. “You know…after a declaration like that, you can’t expect me not to want to get you back into bed.” Standing on my tiptoes, I brushed a soft kiss on his mouth. “Take me into the tent, Ren.”
He groaned, “Don’t tempt me. It was hard enough untangling myself from you this morning.”
Last night—after we’d orgasmed and slowly realised the enormity of what we’d done half-undressed, smeared in mud, and scratched with leaves in the middle of an empty forest—we’d petted and stroked and laughed at the sudden glorious freedom of being together.
That dazzling freedom drenched us in a high that made us shake and laugh and giggle like silly children as Ren pulled free, disposed of the condom, then plucked me from the gound.
The river was too shallow to swim, but we were able to wash off the stickiness and wilderness before eating a simple dinner of roasted fish, then snuggling up like we always did in the tent that took forever to put up, thanks to him grabbing me or me kissing him with our constant need to be close.
It was the best day of my life, but for some reason, we couldn’t fall asleep. Too in awe of what had happened, too afraid that if we closed our eyes, we’d wake and it would all be a dream.
All night, Ren cupped my breast, rocked his front into my back, and wrapped his leg around mine. Our touches were allowed to be sexual. We were allowed to include our bodies as well as our hearts.
By the time dawn stole the midnights of darkness and used a different palate of shell-pinks and mandarin-golds, Ren and I were well and truly smitten.
Thank God, no one else was around because we were completely wrapped up in each other to the point of eye rolling.
“We have nowhere to be. No deadlines. No appointments. Why can’t we just have sex for the rest of our lives?”
Ren chuckled, warming my heart with its husky melodic sound. “Because you didn’t let me prepare. You pounced on me yesterday, remember?”
“I did nothing of the sort.” I smirked, knowing full well that when I’d found that small clearing, I couldn’t hold off the urgency anymore. The tingling, sparkling urgency that had steadily grown from painful to excruciating.
If Ren hadn’t given in last night, I very well might’ve attacked him against his will.
“You won last night, Little Ribbon. Now you have to do what I say.” Throwing me a heated look, he commanded, “Help me pack up camp. We’re heading down river where the current isn’t so fast and it’s deeper to swim.”
I followed him as he pulled the sleeping bags from the tent and started to roll them up. “And then what?”
He threw me a cheeky, deliciously dirty look. “And then, it’s my turn.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
REN
2018
DELLA HAD CHANGED my world.
And now, I wanted to change hers.
As we strode through the fading light to yet another campsite, I spotted a natural clearing where no sun was welcome, and no trees grew.
The river babbled in the distance, glistening in the twilight with invitation to wash away our exhaustion and relax. It wasn’t as loud or as swift as our last stop. The surface calm and serene instead of choppy and chaotic.
The small cuts and grazes from sex last night marked Della’s creamy skin as she strode ahead of me, her backpack heavy, boots crunching purposely, unaware I’d made my choice.
I wanted to feel bad about hurting her, but all I felt was absolute satisfaction and weird male pride.
“Stop,” I said quietly hiding a cough as I slipped my bag to the ground and once again became bombarded by the tingling, incinerating chemistry that’d set up a constant vigil between us.
Della brushed away a sweat-sticky curl, breathing shallowly as she slowed to a halt and turned. She didn’t say anything as our eyes locked, and we became caught up in a vortex of need.
“Don’t.” I kept my distance. “I’m doing my best to have camp set up before we give in this time.”
“And how’s that going for you?” She laughed as I tore at my bag’s zipper and wrenched out almost every belonging in a rush.
“Good.” I fisted the tent and shook it out.
“If you say so.”
“Hold that tongue of yours, Della. I’m having you. Just give me a few minutes.”
She smiled sweetly as I began the process of erecting somewhere to sleep—somewhere to take her where it was soft and safe so I could take my time and make her fall apart as spectacularly as she’d made me.
Disposing of her own bag, Della rubbed her lower back as she came to grab two sides of the tent as I unrolled it. She held it taut while I hammered in the pegs. Together, we inserted the poles, bending them until the nylon sprang upward, creating a roof.
The entire time we worked, my skin never stopped prickling at her proximity. And once we’d finished, she moved away and stripped off her t-shirt, leaving her in just a black sports bra and jeans as she twisted up her hair to encourage a breeze to cool her down.
My gut squeezed, my heart pounded, my mouth went dry.
All my life, she’d cared for me. She’d done chores I didn’t ask her to, cooked food I didn’t request, been there every step of the way. I no longer looked at her as two people—girl and woman—just her.
Della.
Mine.
Dappled in twilight with tiredness clinging to her skin, she looked so damn young. Too young to withstand the hurricane of lust in my blood.
But she had survived.
She’d fought me back.
She’d woken me up to the temptress she truly was, and I couldn’t wait anymore.
We had a bed.
That was all we needed.
As she kicked off her boots and removed her socks, her ribbon tattoo with its capital R filled my vision, no longer condemning me but welcoming me.
I wanted to lick it again.
Bite it for good measure.
Stopping beside her as she turned to face me, I hovered like a love-struck fool, drinking her in, licking my lips at how I wanted to suck the sweat on her chest and run my thumb over the perspiration on her upper lip.