Chapter 31
Sorrow
He helps me remove my clothes while keeping me warm with his body and the blankets over us.
“Warm enough?”
“Yes.” My heart is beating fast and so hard I’m afraid it’ll burst from my chest.
“Good, that’s good, baby.”
His voice trembles. Trace is just as nervous as I am, and all my insecurities come to light. Am I pretty enough? Do I still taste good to him down there? Will we fit? Will he think I’m lacking because of my inexperience?
Trace silences my insecurities with his mouth on mine.
His kiss starts hesitantly, like it’s our first time.
It’s not. We’ve shared all sorts of kisses since we moved into the guesthouse.
Tender makeup kisses, then hurtful ones because they were done in anger and jealousy, his voice as he spoke to that girl in the bathroom taking up space in my mind.
I bit down on his bottom lip, drawing blood. He wiped it away, fisted my hair in his hand, and crushed my mouth with his.
I am his, and he is mine, and no girl or guy will come between us, ever. That was his promise as he destroyed my jealousy and anger with his mouth devouring mine in this all-consuming kiss. Then I surrendered, and he kissed me so thoroughly my toes curled.
Trace kisses me like that now, with utmost reverence as I surrender to the skill of his mouth, his tongue, and his fingers.
He rolls one nipple between his fingers, then the other, followed by his mouth on the little buds.
His teeth scrape over the sensitive buds, one then the other, and I come off the truck’s bed.
“That feels so good, Trace.”
Trace trails kisses between my breasts and down to my navel.
Palming my hips, he drops kisses on my stomach, and I see him on his knees, kissing my swollen belly—our children.
We’ll have children together. I’m floating with that thought.
I won’t hide my children. They’ll live in the open and be loved by their families, by their grandparents and all their cousins.
And of course, their aunt, Isla, and their soon-to-be aunts, whatever their names may be.
He kisses my inner thigh. I shiver with need. He presses his face to my core, and I tremble with anticipation. He licks up my slit and sucks on my clit as my back arches. He is everything to me, and I love him so much.
“I love you, Trace Saints.” I reach for him and skim my fingers along his broad shoulders and down his arms. “Please make me yours.” My core aches. My heart is soaring above the stars. The frogs are croaking loudly. Smiling, I open my arms to him.
He moves his body up, and fisting his cock near my entrance, he slowly slides inside me, inch by thick inch. “That feels so good. You feel so good,” I say.
Trace said I’m patient. Usually I am, but not with this. I’ve waited my whole life for Trace Saints.
I tip my hips up at the same time I press him down to me with my hands on his tight ass.
His erection breaks through my barrier. There’s stinging pain, but I can handle pain.
What I want is the pleasure after the pain, like how he spanked me, then stroked me with his fingers in my pussy to a mind-blowing orgasm.
He rocks into me.
“Yes, that’s it. Please, Trace.”
He rocks harder. Goes deeper. “Fuck, baby. You’re tight, so fucking tight.”
I hold on to him. He’s my safe place. We’re safe. I’ve never been with a guy, and he got tested for me. Safety is important. So is not having an unplanned pregnancy. I’m on birth control. It’s not one hundred percent fool-proof, but it’s better than nothing.
We never want our future children to feel unwanted, that they’re a mistake.
It’s what Kyle and Sarah Sophia said about me.
That they shouldn’t have stolen me from my biological mother.
I remember their arguments. Some of my memories are coming back and becoming more clear.
It’s what Trace thought he was. He’s not.
He is his parents’ miracle. I’m my father’s lost child, the one stolen from him.
And we are all in our rightful places now.
I’m exactly where I belong—in Trace’s arms.
I don’t lock down the feels.
Neither does Trace.
“Feeling all right, baby?”
“Yes,” I pant. “Feels really good, Trace.”
“That’s good, babe. That’s really good.” He slows his thrusts and goes deep.
I pull my knees back.
“That’s it.” He goes deeper with his thrusts. His face is a portrait of serenity one moment and agony the next.
I cradle his face in my palm and tunnel my fingers in his hair with the other. I want to paint him with his face just like this, with all the feels he’s feeling.
Interlacing our fingers, he pushes my knees to my chest with his body.
Dipping his head, he captures my mouth with his.
His kiss is tender. I relax into the bed of the truck and kiss him back.
He groans in my mouth and tangles our tongues.
A moan slips from me. We don’t compartmentalize.
Love isn’t about separating the physical and the emotions.
To love someone means to feel a range of emotions, the good and the bad.
He moves in and out of me, filling me full with each thrust and leaving me craving more when he pulls back.
My nails dig into his shoulders. I’m close.
So close. He rocks his hips. I clench my inner muscles.
Trace moans, this guttural sound straight from his core, and I lose it. I come with a soft sigh.
Trace pumps once, twice inside me, and comes loudly, dropping f-bombs left and right. The frogs croak louder.
I smile. “I think they’re cheering you on.”
He chuckles. “I believe you’re spot on, beautiful.” After he cleans us up, he pulls me on top of him. “I love you, Sorrow. So much, baby.”
“You’re okay with us, as boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“For life, Sorrow.”
“Life?”
“Yes, baby.”
I smile. “I like that. Like I really like that.”
“And I like you. Like how you speak. Like how happy you make me. I like, like, like.”
With each like, Trace gives me the best kisses. First, he brushes his lashes over my forehead. Then he drops a kiss on my nose, followed by pecks after pecks on my mouth, before he captures my sighs and moans with his mouth crashing on mine.
“So many likes,” I say with a smile.
His mouth curves over mine. “Enough to equal a shit ton of love?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who aced math.”
His laughter hits me in the chest straight through to my heart. My heart swells with love.
“It does, my sweet Sorrow. I love you, baby.”
“I love you too.” I stare into beautiful eyes that remind me of the pendant hanging on a silver chain around my neck. “Ready for round two?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He smirks. Jesus, I love his smirks.
He kisses me, and I am lost to his kisses and how much he loves me for me, Sorrow Sophia McCabe, the girl who overcame her tragedies with the help of her friends and a guy with a big heart who never wanted his heart broken again. And it never will be.