Page 74 of Whispers of You
Holt tilted his hips, arching deeper into me. My mouth opened on a silent plea as my fingers pressed into his shoulders, nails digging in.
Something about the move broke Holt’s reserve, his worry about how breakable I might be. Some of that earlier desperation found us again. The need to be closer. To remember and to never forget.
Everything in me quivered as Holt hit that spot deep inside. The one that made light dance across my vision and had tears leaking from my eyes. I only wanted more. We met each other again and again, clinging to the need building between us.
“Are you with me?” Holt growled, his hand dipping between us, thumb circling my clit.
“With. You.” I had to sneak the words between breaths.
Holt pressed on that bundle of nerves. It was too much. The rightness of Holt moving inside me. The overload of emotion. Sensation.
All it took was one last spark.
Holt arched into me, impossibly deeper, and then I was falling. But there was no fear because he fell with me. Whispers in the air all around us. Whispers of him. Of us. Of the past. Of the present. Of forever.
I let them take me under, embed themselves in my skin, and carry me away.
Wave after wave crashed over me as I held on to Holt. Gripping as if I’d never let go.
A hoarse shout tipped his lips, and then Holt was spiraling, too. A twisting swirl of sensation. Both of us trying not to miss a single thing.
Because a fear still lived down deep; one that told me the whispers of him would be all I ever had.
25
HOLT
My lips traileddown Wren’s spine. She let out a sleepy little moan that had me grinning against her skin. “Morning.”
My voice was raspy, etched with exhaustion. Likely because Wren and I had lost ourselves in each other more times than I could count. As if we were trying to make up for all the time we’d lost. And when we’d both been too spent to continue, we’d slept tangled in each other.
“Need sleep,” she grumbled.
I couldn’t help my chuckle.
Wren flipped onto her back, not bothering to pull the sheet up. “I missed that sound.”
“My laugh?”
She nodded, her fingers ghosting over my throat. “I thought I’d have all your chuckles. That I’d know what it sounded like at every stage of life.”
Each word carved itself into my chest. I’d stolen so much from her. Those chuckles. Our life—the one we’d planned for so long.
I cupped Wren’s face, my thumb sweeping back and forth across her cheek. “Never stopped loving you. Not for a single second.”
I didn’t give a damn that it might be too soon. That Wren might not be ready to hear these words. Because she needed them. I might’ve royally screwed up, but it wasn’t from a lack of love.
The green in Wren’s eyes flashed as her fingers stilled. “You can’t say that.”
“Whether I say it or not won’t make it any less true.”
Wren snatched her hand back and pulled the sheet up to cover herself. “Don’t, Holt. Please, don’t make any promises.”
Promises she worried I’d never be able to keep. Maybe she wasn’t ready to hear them out loud, but I’d give them to her silently. Inaudible prayers lifted into the air. And I’d give her actions—the strongest words of all.
I pulled Wren into my arms. “Okay. No promises. But no pulling away either.”
A little of the tension went out of Wren’s muscles at that. “I don’t know if I can do whatever this is.”
