Page 97 of Begin Again
Nick lifts me off my feet, setting me on the edge of the bed, but his fingers aren’t gone long before they brush against my core. One finger slips between my folds, dipping inside me, and my body reacts immediately to his touch.
“God, I missed this,” he whispers against my neck. “You are so fucking wet already and I’ve barely even touched you, Davina.”
I gasp when he slips another finger inside me, and I clutch his shoulders in desperation.
“That’s my favorite sound.” He hums before his tongue trails up the column of my neck to my ear, all while slipping a third finger inside me and curling them. His name falls from my lips like a prayer. “I take it back.That’smy favorite sound.”
I whimper when he pulls his fingers from me, but anticipation floods my entire being when he climbs onto the bed and sits behind me. His legs plant on either side of me before he caresses down the length of my left leg and bends it upward, planting my foot on the bed. His mouth attaches to my right shoulder, his tongue following the love bites on my skin.
“Keep your leg up, Davina. Understand?”
I nod, unable to get the words out. Normally, I know it wouldn’t be enough for him—he likes a verbal response—but he seems too invested in the moment to care. His lips trail up my neck and down my other shoulder. His right arm hooks around my middle while the left reaches around, under my leg, until his fingers brush against my wet folds.
“Good, baby,” he whispers when my hips buck against the sensation. He slips two fingers inside me and his thumb begins a relentless assault on my clit. Nick kisses my temple when my head falls back against his shoulder. His right hand slides up my chest, stopping for a soft squeeze of my breast before slipping around my neck, applying soft pressure to the sides. There’s a deep inhale below my ear and I whimper when his teeth graze the skin. “Just look at you, Dee. Fuck, I love watching you like this.”
My hips move against his hand, craving more friction, and before I know it, he slips another finger inside me. The heel of his palm plants firmly against my clit and it lights every one of my nerves on fire. The pressure around my neck tightens and he pulls my mouth to his in a forceful kiss. The new angle makes his fingers reach deeper inside me before he curls them, scratching an itch that hasn’t been satisfied since he left.
Pressure in my belly builds and I know it won’t be long if he keeps going at this pace. I want to make this last. I don’t want it to end. But my husband has other plans, deepening each circle of his palm against my clit and elongating his fingers inside mebefore curling them forward in such a painfully slow manner it makes my body ache with the need for release.
“You want to come?” Nick breathes into my ear, nibbling on the lobe. My head nods and he applies the same pressure to my neck. “Come when you want, but I want you to look forward.”
“W-what?”
Nick motions ahead of us and forces my gaze to follow his, keeping his hand on my neck, and suddenly I’m staring straight into the floor-length mirror across from the bed. The sight is otherworldly—him wrapped securely around me as I sit between his legs spread out on the bed, one hand gripping the column of my throat, the other positioned between my legs in a deliciously possessive way. I meet his eyes in the mirror and a devilish smile forms on his lips.
“Keep your eyes on the mirror, Davina,” he commands, and I cry out when his fingers begin to move in and out of me at a brutal pace. Sounds of wet skin fill the room and he peppers my skin with warm, wet kisses, but his gaze stays on the mirror.
My body clings to his fingers, begging for release, and when he commands me to reach between my legs and rub the sensitive bud, I don’t hesitate. My fingers work the bundle of nerves, bringing me closer and closer to the edge, but it’s the sound of his moans and watching us in the mirror that pushes me over.
“Watch,” he commands when my head starts to fall back against his shoulder. He forces my gaze back to the mirror. My body trembles under his touch, fingers still slipping in and out of me as my pussy clutches onto them with each thrust, and when I can’t force my fingers to move against my clit any longer, his replace mine.
Tears sting my eyes at the pressure rebuilding in my core when he continues the brutal assault, and when Nick bites down on my shoulder, I come again.
“That’s my girl,” Nick whispers against my skin, his fingers slowing down until he finally pulls them away from me, bringing them to his mouth and slipping them between his lips. He moans at the taste, and I swear I could come from the sound alone. “Fuck, Dee.”
His hand grips my chin and he kisses me, his tongue delving into my mouth, swiping against mine so I taste myself on him.
“I love you,” he whispers, brushing his nose against mine, still holding my face between his fingers.
"Lo so.” I know.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Nina
NICK AND I SIT in the same chairs I have spent many days in over the past year. Poring over the different reports, photos, and maps of Mount Achor and its surrounding areas, Beau and I searched for answers and clues about where my husband could have been. Little did we know, he was right under our noses the whole time. The bigger question remainswhydid his presence go undetected for so long? The police in Bezer would have (or should have) reported his appearance in town to the State authorities, or at least the sheriff, and that would’ve closed the case almost immediately. So, why didn’t that happen?
Nick’s knee bounces with anticipation. He’s ready to get this over with. And after what I witnessed last night I can’t say I feel much different.
I woke up in the middle of the night feeling the weight next to me continuously shifting—not shifting, thrashing. Nick’s body practically vibrated as he lay in bed, his head moving from side to side, arms flailing as beads of sweat lined his face. He’d mumble, so low I couldn’t understand him, but then he screamed. A terrified scream that rattled me to my core, and if I wasn’t awake yet, I was after that.
Nick refused to wake up when I tried rousing him. He began repeating a mix ofnoand my name before he jolted awake. Hebolted straight up, and his fingers held my wrist in a vice grip. His eyes were blown wide with fear and confusion as his chest rose and fell violently.
“Hey, it’s me. You’re home. You’re safe,” I said, touching his face, but he ripped away from me, still looking around the room. His breaths became panicked, his chest rising and falling violently. “Nick, look at me.” I gripped his chin and forced his eyes on me. “It’s me,” I said, annunciating each syllable.
He blinked a few times, glancing on either side of my face before locking eyes with me again. Finally, the recognition set in. “Dee?”
“Yeah, baby. It’s me. You’re home.” My fingers glided through the short hairs, nails grazing his scalp, before he leaned forward and buried his face into my neck. “You’re okay,Fossette. I got you,” I whispered and kissed his temple, tightening my hold on him.
