Page 127 of The Locksmith's Promise

Searching my eyes, voice gruff, he murmured, “You and me, we’re not leaving this bed until we settle this for once and all.”

I frowned, unsure what exactly ‘this’ was. “Settle what?”

I raised my face to his, and he bent toward me.

He brushed his lips over my cheek, then grasped the hem of his ancient sweatshirt and pulled it up over my head.

I sucked in a startled breath, my gaze flying up to meet his.

He gently traced the curve of my naked breast with his finger. His voice deepened. “But first we’re going fuck real quick and then sleep.”

I blinked in surprise. “Fuck?”

Since when did we use that word?

I squirmed, pressing my thighs together tightly to ease the sudden ache. “We’re going to fuck?”

“Yeah, Maggie.”

Controlled.

Determined.

His face calm and expressionless but for his eyes.

He reached back for the neck of his t-shirt and yanked it over his head before flicking open the button of his jeans. Dropping them to the floor, he placed one knee on the bed beside me.

With his arm wrapped around my waist, he dragged me up the bed and stretched out over me. With his elbows braced on either side of my head, he stared down at me.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he whispered reverently.

It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be.

But maybe, just maybe, it was true for him.

My fingers danced over his naked back. The circles of rough skin, knowing now how they came to be part of our story, and the helplessness he endured, made them stand out beneath my fingertips.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Are we going to talk?”

He nodded. “We’re going to do that, too.”

Rising to his knees between my thighs, he hooked his fingers over the waistband of my sleep pants. He peeled them down my legs, leaving me naked beneath him.

“Maggie,” he whispered, the mask of control slipping to reveal the sadness and hunger swirling just under the surface as he pushed his boxers down his thighs.

I opened my arms. “I’m here, baby.”

He moved to cover me then quickly changed course.

Thrusting his hands under my bum, he bent low, closed his eyes, and hummed as he covered my sex with his mouth.

My neck arched back at the shock of that first touch, my thighs shaking within seconds. I tangled my fingers in his soft hair, holding him against my pussy as my orgasm ripped through me.

With his hand behind my knee, he yanked my leg up, covered me with his body, and entered me with one, long, unrelenting thrust.

I gasped, my body struggling to adjust to the intrusion.

“Okay, baby?” he muttered low, rubbing his beard against my cheek.

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