Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Now,” she said, pulling gently on his shoulders. She didn’t want to allow the shadows to collect, didn’t want to take that chance.
“I can do it this way,” he said, his fingers continuing that slow glide.
But she shook her head. She needed him to come over her, needed him to enter her with more than his finger. She needed to surrender, to know she could.
He looked briefly unsure, but did as she asked, removing his hand and kissing her as he leaned over, bringing his body on top of hers and supporting himself with his knees. “Guide me in,” he said. Noelle reached down, grasping his hard length, surprised by the silkiness of his skin. She marveled at it, using her hand to slide over it, mesmerized by the way the skin moved so easily, up, down. She might want to investigate that further later, with her hand and maybe even her mouth. The thought made her giddy.
Evan let out a pained laugh. “If you don’t stop that, this is going to be over in a minute.”
She smiled. What he was saying was that there was a goal, and his pleasure wasn’t the whole of it. Sweet Evan. She looked in his eyes, and she knew she loved him. In that very moment, she realized she did. And it might be sick and twisted, based on things love should never be based upon. But regardless, she loved him, and that love was right there, warming her heart as she guided him into her body.
I love you, and it’s why, when this is over, I’ll let you go.
Again.
His eyes went slightly hazy, and she watched the pleasure that contorted his features. That look. God. It was beautiful. She drank it in and found more pleasure of her own, just in witnessing his.
That was a wonderful realization, too, to know that she could find her own pleasure but also that she took satisfaction from witnessing that of the man she was with.
He felt different. Much different from the two times he’d been inside her before. Being this turned on made it feel natural. Right. She’d almost thought he didn’t quite fit before, but no, he was perfect. She lifted her leg, experimented with different positions as he moved leisurely, sweat breaking out on his brow. The skin of his back was damp, and she caressed him, enjoying the feel of him inside her and beneath her palms, loving his mouth on her breast and the way he trembled when she squeezed her internal muscles. There was so much about sex that she’d never even known.
He seemed to sense the moment she began the slow climb, bringing his hand between her legs and massaging her gently so that her blood flowed faster as her stomach muscles began to tighten.
Evan was breathing hard, his head hung, muscles so tense. He was holding on.
Then everything tightened as a wave of pure bliss crashed over her, and she gripped his shoulders, digging her fingernails into his skin and crying out his name.
She could tell he was coming, too, and for a moment they hung suspended together before floating back down to earth. She felt blissful one moment and bereft the next, tears flowing from her eyes as she laughed. Her laughter turned to weeping, and still she gripped him. He was fine with both her joy and her sorrow. He didn’t need to question either. He simply held her through it. In that moment, Noelle didn’t care if it was right or wrong. It just was.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Evan was relieved that she let him stay. He almost thought she wouldn’t. They’d hurt each other this way before. And though he thought they had a clearer picture of what they were offering each other this time, he couldn’t really be sure. He’d meant what he’d said about feeling a sort of rebirth when they’d escaped those cages. He was relearning everything. His boundaries, his emotions, his comfort level. His identity. His place in the world. His view of humanity. He was constantly spinning. Reeling. And being with her, spending the night with her in his arms, was the first time in so long that he’d felt grounded.
They ordered room service and ate in bed. Then they made love again. And again. He took such immense pleasure in watching her explore her limits, both physical and emotional. And he found healing too. He’d been victimized as well. He’d worried that he’d carry visions with him that would haunt him during intimacy. But that wasn’t the case. She was all that he saw. He lived that night only in the present, and it helped patch together his wounded soul.
The third time they had sex, she didn’t cry. “No tears,” he said, rolling over and bringing her with him.
She laughed down at him, her face going serious. “No tears,” she confirmed.