Page 93 of The Soul Never Forgets

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you. You’re sort of beautiful too… in a manly kind of way.”

“Nah, men aren’t beautiful.”

“Some men are beautiful, and you’re one of them.”

He cups the side of my face with his hand, his fingertips flirting with the nape of my neck. He curls his fingers around my neck and leans in, pressing one soft kiss against my lips.

My breath is rapid against his mouth, and I realize why. I’m nervous like a virgin on her wedding night––same as Augustina felt that night after she married Frank. In this room.

Moving his lips, he drags them along my jawline until he reaches the area just below my ear. Opening his mouth, his tongue caresses my skin as he works his way toward the bend of my shoulder.

Lightly, he kneads the muscles as his hand makes its way down my spine. The curve of my lower back is where he stops advancing, and he grips my cheek, pulling me against his hard cock. He nuzzles his nose against my skin and inhales, a soft groan vibrating against my neck.

His hand abandons the curve of my spine and grips my hip again, pushing me so I’ll roll to my back. Flattening his hand against my stomach, he slowly moves it in a downward circular motion, and my breath quickens when the tips of his fingers lightly graze the top of my pubic bone.

Wrapping his hand around the top of my knee, he pushes my leg away from the other. And I happily let him.

Sliding his flattened palm down my stomach, he cups his fingers around the apex between my thighs. Stroking back and forth, his touch is weightless. Just a tease really. I want more so I widen the part between my legs and lift my pelvis in an upward angle. His hand rewards me with more of what I want and my breath deepens, accompanied by a barely-there moan at the back of my throat.

He sucks my bottom lip, gently holding it hostage inside his mouth for a moment before releasing. All it takes is a simple brush of his tongue against the seam of my lips, and I open fully for him.

Jude Dawson Wescott. He tastes like the present and tonight, the past, all rolled into one. And this is only the first way I’ll welcome his body inside of mine tonight.

Tangling his leg around mine, he widens the space between my thighs, and uses his leg to pin me against the bed. Not that I’m going anywhere.

He continues petting me, allowing one of his fingers to stray away from the others and find its way inside my wet cleft where it easily slips and slides through the slickness that has formed there. I’m his instrument, and his fingers perform an erotic ballad.

My entire world fixates on this man, the touch of his lips on mine, and the feel of his hand between my legs. Anything beyond these things, beyond Dawsey, doesn’t exist. It’s only the two of us in this world as I obey the writhing desire that is building inside me.

“I’m going to come.”

“That’s it, my love. Let it happen.”

A broken whimper leaves my mouth. I grip the back of his neck and tense, holding him tightly with our foreheads and lips touching. I shudder once, twice, at least a half-dozen times as my body fractures beneath his touch.

When it ends, my body turns to mush. I relax and release my grip on his neck, my mouth still against his. “You do that like Frank.”

“You come like Gussy.”

“And it’ll never get old.”

“We aren’t finished yet.”

“I hope not.”

Dawsey moves to kneel between my legs and lowers his body to mine. My heart pounds and my breath trembles as he settles his hips between my parted thighs, his length pressing against me. I hook one of my legs around him and move my hips, adjusting the alignment of his erection until his tip is perfectly placed.

His hand follows the length of my arm until it finds my hand. He pushes his fingers through mine, intertwining them into a clasp and rests them on the bed next to my head. He squeezes gently, and I do the same as he kisses me and slowly pushes in, inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed.

His mouth feasts on mine and he smiles when my other leg hooks around his waist, the heels of my feet spurring him on. Pulling back, he slowly advances and retreats over and over, every thrust stretching me in the most delicious way. I wrap my arm around his shoulders and hold on tightly, kissing him as he moves in and out.

Our kissing slows, becoming gentler. This is making love to your soul mate who you’re intended to spend your eternity with. We are no longer two bodies. We become one flesh in the most sacred act shared between a man and woman. It isn’t only our bodies joining. It’s our souls as well.

Jude Dawson Wescott has forever imprinted himself on me.

This—I need this. As much as I need the air I breathe or the food I eat. Him. Dawsey. The life we’re going to have together. The babies we’re going to make. I need all of it.

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