“More good than bad, I hope.”
She wasn’t looking at the view anymore as she said, “So much good that I keep pinching myself to check that it’s real. To see if you can possibly be real.”
The fact that she had started to think of what had happened to her as a crime rather than as her fault—and that she’d just trusted his family not to screw her over when it was damned hard to trust anyone at all after what she’d been through—felt to Drake like big steps in the right direction.
One where she stayed with him and Oscar, making their lives warmer, brighter, and a hell of a lot more full of life.
Drake framed her face in his hands and let himself take a good, long visual drink of her beauty before he lowered his mouth to hers and drank from her lips. The sparks that were always simmering just beneath the surface instantly flared, hot and wild.
“You always know,” she breathed against his lips. “Always know exactly what I need to make everything feel so much better.”
He had already begun to strip her clothes away when he felt a faint shiver move through her. Scooping her up, he took her back inside the cabin, telling Oscar to go lie down in the bedroom as he kicked the front door shut. He took her to the leather chair, then sat with her straddling his lap.
“So do you, Rosa. So do you.”
He took her mouth again before finally stripping away her sweatshirt, finding her bare and so beautiful it nearly stopped his heart just to look at her. He had to put his hands on her, his mouth following barely a beat behind as she arched closer so that he could lave both breasts at once with his tongue.
“You’re so damned soft. Everywhere I touch.” The way she rocked into his hips hardened him to near bursting beneath the zipper of his jeans. “Everywhere I taste.”
“Touch more,” she urged. “Taste more.”
Every time, he promised himself he’d go slowly, be gentle with her. But it was the one promise he could never manage to keep, especially when he yanked her sweats down and found her bare.
“Rosa.” He groaned her name into her mouth as he found her wet and hot at her center. “Come for me.” He stroked over her, plunged into her with his fingers. “Let go for me.”
Her eyes went wide, her pupils so dark he swore he could see inside her soul for a split second before she shuddered through the orgasm beginning to whip through her. Hard and fast and, judging by her moans, damned good.
“I can’t get enough of you,” she panted before she’d even come down all the way from her release. “Every time I think it can’t get any better, it does.”
She was the one tearing at his clothes now, and he paused only long enough to grab a condom from his pocket before helping her get his shirt and jeans off. The second that protection was in place, she was lowering herself onto him, his heart hammering harder and harder with every inch he slid. Until they were finally, completely, perfectly connected.
Emotion rippled from every part of her as she stared into his eyes. “If I could stay here forever with you...”
Instead of finishing her sentence, she pressed her mouth to his and gave him a kiss so sweet that the three little words he’d been trying to hold back awhile longer nearly slipped out. But Drake knew there was only so much she could be expected to handle in one day. So even if he wanted much more—even if he wanted everything—it was enough for today that she’d at least agreed to talk to Smith. And that she’d done it with Drake at her side, rather than continuing to believe their relationship needed to stay hidden forever from everyone.
Still, if he couldn’t yet say the words aloud, he needed to say them any other way he could. And he would make damned sure Rosa knew what she meant to him in every single moment—especially this one, where they were two halves of a whole.
He reached up to put his hands on her cheeks, and their kiss spiraled hotter and hotter. Sweeter too, even as she held on to his shoulders for leverage as she rode him.
His brain went dark enough to see stars as she took him deeper with each stroke. Moving his hands to her hips, he gripped tightly and thrust high, then again, and again, until she was sobbing his name against his mouth and spinning them both off into endless, perfect pleasure.
*
They were both still panting and holding tightly to each other when she asked, “Do you still want to paint me?”
“Always.” He was surprised she even had to ask when he’d never held back just how much she inspired him.
“Then paint me like this. Just the way I am now.”
He couldn’t be hearing her right. He forced himself to pull back enough to say, “I meant it when I said I don’t want you to sit for me if you don’t want to.”