Page 90 of Whispers of You
Holt traced my bottom lip with his thumb. “Nothing but beauty.”
He rocked against me, and tiny waves of sensation coursed through me, spurring me on. My hips began to move, almost of their own volition. Tiny rises and falls, testing tilts and arcs.
Everything in me turned to liquid heat as I moved. Holt joined me in the dance, his hips lifting to meet mine. We lost ourselves in the rhythm, the pulse that was only ours.
But it wasn’t enough. I wanted Holt to let go. To make me his in a way that meant he’d be with me always.
“Holt.” I didn’t care that I was pleading. “I need more.”
He lifted me off him in a flash. I whimpered at the loss, but he spun me around to face the wall a second later. He thrust inside in one long glide, and I nearly wept with relief. I pushed back, seeking more.
Holt thrust deeper, picking up speed. My legs trembled as my inner walls quivered.
My back arched, meeting him for each movement. I braced my hands against the tile as tears of feeling filled my eyes.
Holt’s hand slid between my legs and circled that bundle of nerves. The sound that escaped me wasn’t anything I’d ever heard fall from my lips.
“Are you with me?”
“With. You.”
Holt flicked my clit, and my world tunneled. If it weren’t for his quick reflexes, I would’ve hit the floor. But Holt’s arm encircled my waist, and he held me up as he thrust one last time, my name on his lips.
We collapsed onto the bench, trying to catch our breath.
“Too much?” he asked softly.
“No. Perfect.”
Because Holt had done just what my soul had cried out for. He’d marked me in a way that I would never forget, no matter what came our way.
* * *
Grae satopposite me in the overstuffed chair in my living room, her legs curled under her. And she was fighting a smile. “You look way too glowy for being shot at last night. Almost like someone got herself some.”
My hand stilled as I reached out to hand her a mug of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I sent up a million tiny thank-yous that Holt currently wasn’t on the premises. What we did have were two officers parked outside the cabin. I tried not to let their presence make me feel trapped, but it was hard not to. The sensation was so familiar that it threw me back to a time when reporters had been camped out on my street, and I felt sure the third shooter would show up at any moment.
Grae only grinned wider, oblivious to my spiraling thoughts. “It’s not like I want details. That’s my brother. Ick! But I do want to know that you’re happy.”
I tugged on the corner of my lip with my teeth.
The amusement fled Grae’s expression. “You’re not happy.”
“I’m happy,” I whispered.
“Then why do you look like someone just stole your puppy?”
Shadow lifted her head at that.
I sank back onto the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. “I’m scared someone’s going to steal that happy.”
Grae nodded. “Someone like Holt?”
“Or the shooter. Every time I think about letting myselfreallywant this…”
“It terrifies you.”
