Page 73 of Her Every Fantasy

I leaned forward and cradled his jaw, redirecting his gaze to mine. ‘She was wrong, Bryce. In every way. You know that, don’t you?’

‘I didn’t. Not at first. Then I met you. God, you blew my fucking mind. I wanted to be with you more than I’d ever wanted anything else in my life. When I thought you saw me as nothing more than a friend, I was terrified she was right. And then when you married Dan...’

‘You were convinced she was,’ I finished.

He gave a grave nod. ‘I didn’t take it well. It was partly why I stayed in Singapore. Putting half a world between us seemed like a good idea.’ He gave a twisted smile. ‘Surprisingly, Graciela helped too. She’s like a bulldog with a bone,’ he mused with a new sort of fondness that lifted my heart.

‘Things are better between you two?’

He shrugged. ‘We’re getting there. She grilled me about my letter but refused to tell me what was in hers,’ he griped, but again in a lighter tone that gave me hope for at least one member of his family.

‘I’m glad things are working out for you two. As for putting a world between us, it wasn’t far enough. It never will be. Bryce, I promise, from now on, I’ll always be there to remind you that you’re worth everything to me.’

His eyes darkened and a breath shuddered out. ‘God, rosebud. Please say that again,’ he begged.

I repeated it, slowly, and watched belief seep into his eyes. Into his body.

He shuttled closer and gripped my thighs. My breath caught at the size and smell of him. God, this man made me feel things. He made me want. And I wanted more. So much more.

‘Bryce—’

He yanked me close and fused his lips to mine. Soul soaring, I pushed him back on the lounger and went all in, deepening the kiss until we were breathless.

He caught my arms and edged me back, his gaze dropping to my thin sarong before rising again. ‘There’s a lot of shitty baggage to get through. But I’m not a saint. I need you too much. So you have two choices. Put some proper clothes on or we continue this in bed.’

My pulse jangled in response but this thing was too new, too fragile...

As if he heard my thoughts, his fingers tightened in my hair. ‘I promise you, Savvie, I’m done staying away. Whether you want one weekend, one year or one lifetime, I’ll be right here, taking whatever you give me. But be warned, I’m a Mortimer. I’ll negotiate for the very maximum.’

This time my heart jangled along with my pulse. The thought that everything I’d dreamed of could be within grasp...

‘Take me to bed.’

With satisfying urgency, he swept me off my feet and headed for the French doors that led to the bedroom.

Impatiently, he tugged off his clothes and kicked them away, then jerked his head at me. ‘Your turn.’

My sarong came off with a simple tug, arresting Bryce in place. My skin had gone even darker in the sun, a fact he seemed to love goingby his feverish scrutiny and his reverent caresses when he reached for me.

‘God, Savvie. You’re so beautiful.’

With a broken whimper, I fell into his arms. We tumbled into bed, our movements frenzied and breathlessly uncoordinated. He seemed determined to kiss me everywhere, especially my pussy. I returned the favour until he groaned and pulled me up.

‘I need you,’ he pleaded again.

‘Where?’ I asked boldly, a cheeky little dare, made what felt like for ever ago, teasing me with possibilities.

He caught my meaning and swallowed. ‘Any bloody where you’ll have me, love.’

My heart lurched at the new endearment and, rightly or wrongly, I let it inside me, let it lift my hopes. ‘I want you to fuck me...there. Like you promised.’

Emotion and arousal shuddered through him. Renewed caresses flamed my body, his fingers wreaking havoc as he strummed my clit to fever point, making me soaking wet as his mouth devoured my lips. When he dragged my slickness to my puckered hole, I shivered in wild anticipation.

‘Christ, you’re so wet.’

He left me for a moment and returned with a condom and the pouch. Like before, he was gentle, taking his time to delight me with drugging, distracting kisses while I adjusted to his touch.

‘Relax, rosebud. Trust me,’ he crooned against my mouth.

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