Chapter 9 Future Tense #2
“I work from home,” I tell him. “It’s really just Bella’s school keeping us in Atlanta. We probably should have registered her for school here in Winter Bay instead of Atlanta anyway,” I say, the thought occurring to me even as I speak it. “I could have found a house here; we could have—”
“Des, stop.” His voice is gentle but firm. “You’ve been more than generous. More than I deserve. You shared her time with me equally even though you could have made it so much harder. You never badmouthed me to her, never poisoned her against me even when you had every right to.”
“Enrick—”
I will not let you uproot everything just because I feel lonely and miss having her close. I should be the one making the effort here, not you.
“How am I ever going to get comfortable in my future home if I don’t visit?”
His mouth opens, closes, opens again. No sound comes out. His eyes search mine in the darkness.
“Your...” He can’t seem to finish the sentence. His grip tightens on my hip. “You’re talking about my house? As your future home?”
“Well, yeah.” I try to keep my voice light even though my heart is pounding. “Unless you had other plans?”
“No. No other plans.” His voice is hoarse. “Just didn’t think you’d—fuck, Desiree.” He kisses me hard, and when he pulls back, his eyes are suspiciously bright. “You keep surprising me.”
I nestle against him, my cheek resting over his heartbeat, feeling more content than I have in years. “Enrick?”
“Hmm?”
“I think I’m falling in love with you.” The words come easily to me even as my stomach flips waiting for him to say something.
“I love you too.” Emotion roughens his voice. “And this time, I’m never letting you go.”
The words wrap around my heart, chasing away years of unhappiness. When I shift against him and feel him hardening against my thigh, desire reignites.
“Definitely less than ten minutes.” I tilt my head up to brush my lips against his jaw.
His laugh rumbles through his chest, low and warm. “I have a reputation to salvage.”
I push at his chest, and he lets me roll him onto his back with an ease that shows he knows exactly what I want.
Rough palms settle on my hips as I swing my leg over to straddle him, settling my weight onto his thighs.
The shift in position puts me in control, and from the heat in his eyes, he likes it.
“My turn,” I say, grinding against him slowly.
His grip on my hips tightens. “Sweetness, you keep moving like that, and this is going to be over embarrassingly fast. Again.”
“Good.” I lean down to kiss him, my breasts pressing against his chest. “I want you desperate for me. I want you to lose control.”
“Already there,” he groans as I sit up and reach between us, positioning him at my entrance. “Have been for six fucking years.”
I sink down slowly, and we both make sounds that are almost pained. From this angle, he feels impossibly deep, stretching me in ways that make my toes curl.
“Holy hell.” He traces my sides before cupping my breasts. “You’re taking me so well.”
I start to move, finding a rhythm that has us both moaning. His hips rise to meet mine, hands guiding me, and I brace myself on his chest for leverage.
“That’s it,” he encourages, voice rough. “Ride me, baby. Take what you need.”
What I need is him—all of him, forever. The certainty of it settles into my bones with astounding clarity.
I pick up the pace, chasing the pleasure building low in my belly. His hands are everywhere—my breasts, my hips, sliding between us to where we’re joined. When his thumb finds my clit, I cry out.
“Come on my dick,” he orders, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves.
The combination of his words, his touch, and the angle of him inside me is too much. I shatter around him with a sharp cry, my body clenching and pulsing as waves of pleasure crash through me.
“Fuck yes.” His hips buck up hard, prolonging my orgasm. “Just like that, sweetness. So fucking hot.”
My body is still catching up when he sits up, wrapping his arms around me and flipping us so I rest on my back. He doesn’t pull out, just adjusts our position and starts moving again, this time with purpose.
“That’s three, sweetness,” he growls against my mouth. “I plan to make you come at least one more time before I let you sleep.”
His thrusts are controlled now, no longer frantic. He’s taking his time, making sure I feel every inch of him, every deep stroke designed to drive me higher.
“Enrick—” I’m already sensitive, every nerve ending singing. “I can’t—”
“You can.” He hooks one of my legs over his shoulder, changing the angle, and I see stars. “You’re going to come one more time, sweetness. And this time, I’m coming with you.”
The pressure builds faster this time, sharper, almost overwhelming in its intensity. When his thumb presses hard against my clit, I come apart.
This orgasm is more consuming. It radiates through my entire body, making me shake and sob his name. I feel him swell inside me, his own release hitting as my body clenches around him.
“Desiree—fuck—” He buries himself deep, groaning my name as he comes, his whole body shuddering.
We stay like that for a long moment, both of us trembling, hearts pounding against each other. When he finally moves, it’s only to press kisses along my jaw, my cheeks, my forehead.
“God, I love making you come,” he murmurs against my temple. “Merry Christmas, sweetness.”
“What time is it?”
He glances at the clock on his nightstand. “Just past midnight. It’s officially Christmas.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest. “Best Christmas present ever.”
Outside, I swear I can hear sleigh bells in the distance, but it’s probably just the wind chimes from the porch. Either way, wrapped in Enrick’s arms with our daughter sleeping down the hall, it feels like Christmas magic.