Page 49 of Sacrifice
This time when he leans over me, I don’t waste any time. I reach down between us and wrap my fist around him, making it clear exactly what I want. I brush the tip of his dick through my folds, positioning him right where I want him. When he enters me, it’s as though all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.
Neither one of us make a sound. I slip my arms around his neck, and Corbin presses his body against me. I wrap my legs around his waist, and we both succumb to the intensity of the moment.
He reaches for my leg, changing our positions and rears back, slamming into me. When he stares down at me, his eyes are full of desire. I want to tell him how much he means to me and beg him to never stop.
His finger brushes over my clit as his hips piston in and out. His eyes burn into me while my hand trails over my chest, grabbing my breast in my hand, squeezing my nipple between my fingers.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Haelynn.”
My vision turns hazy, my release within reach. I want him to finish with me. With one flick of his finger over my clit, his hips thrust into me, and it’s enough to send me falling over the edge. My legs tighten around his waist as a rush of sensations race through me before he collapses on top of me.
He moans out my name, mixed with a heavy grunt. His pace picks up before one final thrust and his body goes slack against mine.
Neither of us move, but when I finally come back to earth my fingers begin to draw lazy circles on his back. He goes quiet and I half expect to hear his breathing even out and the quiet sounds of his snoring signaling he’d fallen asleep.
“I love you.”
I wanted to ask him how he could say that and when did it happen? I hate the thought of him regretting those words, especially when he learns the truth, but I also don’t want him to go on thinking I didn’t feel the same.
“I love you too,” I mutter, tears pricking my eyes. I try to blink them away, but it’s no use. One slipped out, and it’s like a dam had given way, sending the rest flowing free down my face.
“Don’t cry, baby. It kills me to see you upset,” he whispers.
“I’m not sad. I’m happy, but I’m scared.”
He pulls back, his brows furrowing in concern. “Why?”
“I just know it’s only a matter of time before you realize you deserve so much more than what I can give you.”
“No, that won’t happen because it’ll never be true.”
He moves to lay next to me, urging me to follow him. He pulls the blanket over us and wraps his arms around my waist until our limbs are tangled, molded perfectly together.
It’s long after he’s fallen asleep before my body relaxes and I follow behind him. When I wake up a few hours later, the clock on the nightstand flashes the time. It is three-fourteen.
Corbin still hasn’t moved an inch. His face is pressed against my back and his arms are cinched around my waist. I lace my fingers with his and lay there for a while, enjoying the feel of his arms around me.
I know when I get up to leave, I’m going to wish I were back here in this moment with him.
I let out a heavy sigh and unhook his arm, carefully lifting it while trying not to wake him. He shakes his head and mumbles something unintelligible. For a second, I think I’m busted.
He turns, rolling over onto his back, giving me the space to slip out. I stand at the foot of the bed, watching him sleep before I finally have the courage to leave.
I think back to the talk I had with my mom the night before. Her fears of what would happen if anyone found out who my father was and why she had chosen to leave Arbor Creek.
The memory of my conversation with Gage outside of the studio, warning me to stay away from him and his friends, flashes through my mind. My father has taken so much from their families already. I don’t want to put him in the position to choose between me and the people he loves. It wasn’t fair to him.
When I moved to Arbor Creek, I never expected to meet Corbin. I certainly never thought I’d fall in love with him so quickly.
I force my feet to move out of the bedroom and down the hall toward the front door. There’s an antique desk near the entryway with a pad of paper.
I walk past it and pause, dragging my teeth over my lower lip, contemplating if I want to leave him a note.
The guilt in my stomach is brewing. He deserves some sort of explanation. I don’t think I’d have the strength to tell him face to face, and the last thing I want is for him to be left with any questions.
I reach for a pencil from the hutch and press the lead to the paper and write.
Corbin,
