Page 110 of Arrogant Puck

My girl.

My eyes stay fixed on the ceiling, but my hand finds her. I trace the edge of her shoulder, then follow the curve of her arm. She doesn’t stir. And I don’t want to wake her. I just want to touch her. My body aches with want, sure, but it’s buried under something deeper.

Peace.

For the first time in years, the noise in my head is quiet. No pills. No haze. Just her. And she’s not running.

My thumb brushes the inside of her wrist. She stirs then, her breath shifting, a quiet sound leaving her lips as her lashes flutter.

She blinks up at me, sleep still clinging to her.

“Good morning,” she murmurs.

“Morning, baby,” I say. My voice is low, rough from sleep.

“Do you remember anything from yesterday?” she asks.

“I remember everything,” I reassure her.

She studies me for a beat. There’s no shield in her eyes this morning. No sarcasm. No edge. Just her.

She reaches up, brushing my hair back from my forehead with a softness I didn’t know I needed. And then she leans in and kisses me.

It’s not fast. Not frenzied. It’s not a battle of wills like every time before. This time, it’s her choosing me. Choosing this.

My hand slides into her hair, fingers threading through the strands as I kiss her back. She shifts, moving over me, her thigh sliding between mine, her body aligning with mine fitting so fucking perfectly. I’m already hard.

We move slowly. Stripped of all the games, all the anger, all the tension we used to hide how much we need each other.

She peels her shirt off, and I watch. I drink in the softness of her skin, grazing it with my fingertips. When she takes off her bra, I inhale at the sight.

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper. Her nipples are perfect. I try hard not to touch or suck them into my mouth.

She tugs on my shirt, so I pull it over my head and bring her closer to me. Our bodies smash together, and the feel of her against me is fucking everything.

“These,” she says, grabbing the top of my shorts.

I lean up on my elbows as she stands up to remove her shorts, leaving her in those cute as hell underwear.

I take off my shorts, and she glances at my boxers.

“Those too.”

She watches as I pull them down. Her eyes turn hungry when my dick swings out. She pulls her panties down her legs, and I shiver.

My tongue wets my lips as I stare at her naked body. Jesus fucking Christ. My eyes memorize every inch of her.

“We don’t have to,” I mutter, even though my dick is screaming at the contradiction.

I’m only looking. No touching.

My eyes meet hers.

She crawls onto the bed with me.

Fuck. I’m desperate.

I can’t contain myself or how I feel.

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