Page 113 of Not Another Love Song

His hands were everywhere, tracing their favorite pathways and curving over her angles. She tugged off his jeans and ground her hips down on his cock, teasing him and working herself up. He stared up at her, letting his gaze trail over her chest and stomach.

“Why were you crying?” he breathed. “During the song.”

She licked her lips. “I was thinking of you. And how much I still love you.”

He sat up, pulling her face to his as she sat in his lap. “I love you.”

Dragging him to her, and pushing their chests together, she sighed into his mouth and allowed him to roll them until he was over her. He kissed his way down her chest, sucking softly at her breasts and continuing lower and lower until his hands pressed her knees open.

He whispered apologies into her skin, pressing kisses to her thighs while asking to be forgiven. His tongue dragged through her, long, broad strokes over and over, and she knew she had to tell him somehow that he didn’t need to savor her. She was right here.

Holding her open with his fingers, his tongue was relentless, dipping into her and teasing her entrance. She groaned, fisting his hair, and he simply pushed her thighs down against the cushions, spreading her open. His tongue tested her limits with how close he could push her to the edge before falling over.

He sucked her clit between his lips, and she yelled for him until he increased the pressure and pushed two fingers inside of her. Her back bowed, her fingers dragging across the fabric, and when she’d finished and slumped into the mattress, he continued pumping his fingers into her until she twisted and writhed beneath him.

He was heavy on her as he crawled up her body, like he wasn’t going to let her go anywhere. He filled her in a slow thrust, and Gwen felt her body singing again, like it had suddenly remembered the melody. Clutching her knee to his waist with one arm, he rolled his hips in an increasing pace, dragging his cock against her walls and watching her with a haunted gaze as her eyes rolled back and her nails scratched at his shoulders. He pumped into her and made her scream a third time, biting down on her neck as she clenched around his cock.

They whispered promises to each other, kissing away tears and swallowing apologies. He muttered I-love-yous into her shoulder as he came, and she returned the words every time.

Her fingertips ran down his back as he lay on top of her, catching his breath against her neck. One of his hands was wrapped up in her hair, and the other was curved around her waist.

“Will you come with me to Mabel’s this afternoon?” she whispered into the wintery morning silence.

“She hates me now,” Alex grumbled into her skin.

Gwen laughed. “I heard you were very rude, and arrogant, and always complained about something—”

“I’m sure all of it is true.”

She smiled and kissed his hair. “She told me you’d come looking for music for Nathan’s YouTube channel.” He nodded. “Did you play in the practice rooms when you were older? Like fifteen?”

“Sometimes. When I couldn’t stand Nathan. Or when I was in Jersey for the summer, I’d come over from my dad’s.”

A warmth filled her chest, and she swallowed back the lump in her throat. “I think I heard you. I think you’re the reason I wanted to play violin.”

He looked up at her, his hair falling across his eyes. She expected him to be confused or astonished, but he just smiled at her and said, “You don’t remember?”

She felt her chest collapse. She stared at him.

“I almost trampled you coming out of the practice room one day. You asked me what I was playing, and I told you to fuck off.”

She gasped. “You did not. I would have remembered that!”

“It was something like that.” He pulled up to his elbows. “You were, like, ten or eleven.” He smiled down at her. “I realized during the New York Times interview that you were Mabel’s brat.”

Staring up at him and blinking quickly, she tried to find words for the absolute peace she felt. Like all the harmonies had clicked into place.

Mabel’s brat.

She loved that.

“Did you watch the video?” Alex asked.

She blinked. “Of the solo last night? No. I didn’t really want to relive it.”

“Can I show it to you?”

She laughed. “Alex, I was there—”

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