Page 82 of If You Loved Me

His breath stopped for a moment as I pulled back to look at him, my hips still moving up and down because it felt too good to stop. His hands moved to frame my face, silver lining his eyes. “Loving you, Sarah has brought me back home. You’ve breathed life back into me. I love you.” He pressed a kiss to my lips. “I love you,” he whispered again.

A gleeful laugh burst through my lips, every fiber of my being was on fire for him. There was nothing I could do to hold back the rising sensation of my climax nearing. His words, his touch. It was all too much for me to contain.

He held me close, as I moved over him, our breaths growing quicker by the second. “I’m so close,” I told him, grasping at his back so I could feel every part of him.

“Keep going, baby. Keep going,” he pressed.

And I did, letting him fill me with each stroke. His cock slid over my spot over and over again as my clit ground over his pubic bone. Gripping my thighs, his fingers pressed hard against my flesh, he started moving with me, lifting himself up to meet where I came down on him. Heat flared in my core and I could feel him getting closer, his moans and short breaths driving me closer to the edge.

His lips crashed against mine, a mess of tongues and teeth as I felt his cock pulse inside of me just as I tumbled into my orgasm, the sensation near blinding.

Only the mountainside and stars above heard me scream his name, my body roaring from the crashing wave of bliss. I stilled, too sensitive to ride him any longer. My knees quaked next to his thighs, neither one of us willing to part as our kisses turned slower, less hungry, more tender.

He pulled back and looked at me. My chest swelled, nearly bursting from the emotion that took hold of me. “I love you, Sarah.”

“I love you too, Ranger.”

Sated and beyond happiness, I curled up beside him. He tucked me in close, his warmth warding against the cold air. With the sound of crackling wood and Ranger’s steady breathing, it didn’t take me long to drift into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter 35

Ranger

I woke to the smell of smoke and the bright rays of the morning sun streaming through the pine tree branches. Sarah moved in my arms, but her eyes remained closed, her breathing steady.

I didn’t move, not wanting to disrupt her sleep. Fuck, she was beautiful. The sun caught strands of her hair, giving light to the subtle hues of amber and gold throughout her dark tresses. Dark eyelashes fanned out, making tiny shadows on her cheeks and I loved the way her nose was curved and came to a little ball at the end. And her lips. God, I hoped I got to kiss those lips for the rest of my life.

Last night had been the single best night of my life, connecting with her in that way. Sharing our newfound love for one another. I hadn’t felt this happy since before I lost my dad to the war and my mother disappeared. Even then, those years of joy couldn’t compare to what I was feeling forSarah.

I knew she didn’t set out to do it, but she’d mended my heart. Stitching over the years of sorrow, fear, and pain. Replacing all of it with a love so profound I could hardly breathe when I was near her.

Her eyelids fluttered open. “Morning, sugar.” I nestled the side of her neck with my nose before I kissed her jaw.

“Mmm,” she hummed, pressing her back further into my chest. “Good morning.” Her lips parted with a smile as she took me in.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log,” she chuckled.

“Me too.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Are you ready to head back for some breakfast?”

“Actually, that would be wonderful. I’m starving.”

“Okay. Let’s get packed up.”

It didn’t take us long to wrap up the blankets and pillows into the bag that I tied behind Hank’s saddle. He’d eaten through all the pellet food I’d packed for him last night, even though it was a solid three meals worth. The big pig had a tendency to eat through anything extra I gave him, never willing to save it for later.

Sarah was near the edge of the cliff looking down at her phone as I tied the final strap together. “Everything okay?” Icalled out to her. She spiraled a strand of hair around her fingers, turning around to face me.

A solemn look from her had my stomach nearly plummeting to the ground. Something was wrong. I kept my breath steady when she started walking toward me.

“I got a text from my dad,” she said, her voice smaller than normal.

“Are you upset about that?” She’d only really talked about her mother or her parents as a pair. I wasn’t sure what her relationship was like with her father.

“Not upset,”—she looked up at me—“just confused. I don’t think my dad has ever sent me a text message since I’ve been on my own. We usually only talk when we see one another in person, which hasn’t been very often over the past few years.”

How a parent could go that long without initiating contact with their child was beyond me. Then again, my mother left Callie Rose and me. One day she was holed up in her room and the next, she was gone.

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