Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
JUDE GRAVES
Her lips are swollen from our desperate kisses, her body warm beneath mine. I feel the frantic thrum of her heart against my chest, matching my own uneven pulse. I brush a damp strand of hair from her forehead.
“You know I’m not done with you, right?”
A slow, satisfied smile curves her mouth. “Oh?”
“I lost seven years, Em.” My voice cracks, barely noticeable, but I hear it. “Seven fucking years of not touching you. Not tasting you. Not hearing you moan my name.” My palm slides down the soft curve of her hip. “I’m going to make up for every second.”
Her honey-brown eyes flutter open, and she gives a small, breathless laugh. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
I grin and flip us in one swift movement.
She gasps, her hands splaying on my chest, her breasts bouncing lightly with the movement.
“I need to see you,” I murmur, hands sliding up her thighs. “I need to watch your face when you come. I missed it so goddamn much.”
She rolls her eyes, cheeks flushing all the way down her chest. Rising onto her knees, she positions herself as I guide myself to her entrance. The moment her pussy swallows the head of my cock, my breath punches out of me.
“Fuck—Em…”
She sinks down with a choked sound, head tipping back, spine arching beautifully for me. It’s slow and controlled. I watch every flicker of pleasure cross her face at the stretch, fullness, and surrender.
“Look at me,” I rasp.
She does. And the way she watches me makes me feel like I’ve finally returned home. “Oh my god,” she whispers, bracing her hands on my chest as she bottoms out, her body fully flush with mine.
“Move, sweetheart.”
She starts slow, rocking her hips in sensual, deliberate rolls that nearly make my vision go white.
Every drag of her body squeezes me like she’s trying to pull everything out of me.
Heat pools low in my spine. It’s heavy and overwhelming and everything I’ve ever wanted.
I still can’t believe that I’m inside her again.
Emma Easton.
Her moans get louder, higher, breaking into little gasps. Moonlight washes over her, her hair falling around her shoulders like a halo. She looks so fucking beautiful.
I sit up, one arm supporting her back, and suck her nipple into my mouth. She cries out, rhythm faltering into desperate, messy, hungry movements.
“You feel so good,” I groan against her skin. “God, Em.”
The sound of my voice triggers something in her. She shatters—crying out my name like it’s been trapped in her throat since the last time we made love a lifetime ago.
I thrust up into her, dragging out every last tremor until she collapses against me, panting. I kiss her shoulder, her neck, and her shoulder.
But I’m nowhere near finished.
I lower her onto the bed again, her limbs loose, body glowing. Before she can breathe, I hook her legs over my shoulders and fold her in half. Then I slam into her with one deep, devastating thrust.
She cries out, and it’s a sharp sound that activates the monster in me. This angle is lethal. I watch myself disappear inside her over and over, watch her belly flutter with every relentless stroke.
“You feel that?” My voice is feral. “That’s me taking back everything I fucking lost.”
“Yes,” she sobs, clutching the sheets, her gaze locking with mine. “I’ve only ever been yours.” Her eyes roll before focusing back on mine. “I looked for you in every man. But no one could ever be you.”
The words hurt like absolute fuck. Seven years of missing her. Seven years of wanting her. Of regretting and wanting to die without her.
Her body clenches around me again, and I ride it out before easing out of her.
She whimpers, her body still spasming. A sound I will never fucking forget.
I lower her legs gently, lean over her, and kiss the top of her head.
My gaze drags down her beautiful body, snagging on the sight of my cum sliding down her inner thigh. It punches a groan out of me.
Her eyes flutter open. “Jude?”
Something primal curls through me. I don’t answer. I just scoop her into my arms.
She gasps and clings to me instinctively. “What—?” Her voice is breathless.
“I’m not done loving you yet,” I murmur into her hair.
She laughs, breathlessly. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“However much I make you take,” I answer swiftly, and she shudders.
I carry her to the bathroom and turn on the shower. Warm water cascades from above, instantly soaking us both, plastering her dark hair to her shoulders and chest, tracing the delicious curves of her body. I pull her into me, crashing my mouth against hers.
I can’t control myself. I’m possessed by a monster that just wants to devour her body, mind, and soul.
I want to mark her and claim her in every way I fucking can.
With a strength that still seems to surprise her, I lift her again.
Her legs immediately wrap around my waist, her arms locking around my neck.
I pin her to the cool marble, and thrust up into her with a hunger I’ve never felt for anyone else.
Water pours over us. She yelps, nails raking my shoulders.
Good. I want the marks. Hers. Only hers.
“That’s it,” I pant, fucking her hard enough that she gasps with every slam of my hips. “Take all of me, my good, gorgeous girl.”
Her head falls back, body trembling, orgasm winding tight again.
“Look at me,” I command.
Her beautiful brown eyes find mine.
“I love you,” I grit out. “I love you so fucking much.”
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you forever.
The words are a mantra in my head, a vow sealed with every drive. And then her climax hits like lightning. She cries out in a full-body spasm, tightening mercilessly around me. My eyes roll back at the sensation, but I keep going. I slow my thrusts.
Deep, slow.
Deep, fast.
Deep, slow.
I kiss her until my muscles finally begin to tighten. And then I slam into her one last time, groaning into her neck. I hold her there, shaking, full of us until the world slowly comes back into focus.
I never want to leave her.
I stay inside her, softening slowly, my forehead resting against hers. Our breath comes in ragged, synchronized gasps. The water begins to cool, a slight chill that does absolutely nothing to douse the heat between us.
We just breathe. Connected.
Finally, I lower her gently, her legs wobbling as her feet touch the tile. She sags against me, her face buried in my chest. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close under the spray.
“I love you, too,” she whispers against my skin, her voice hoarse.
I tilt her chin up, kissing her softly, gently.
A complete contrast to the animal I was moments before.
We wash each other slowly, tenderly, our hands rediscovering every inch of skin.
The passion has burned down to a warm, glowing ember for now.
I dry her off with a soft towel, patting her skin with a care I usually reserve for my guitar.
I haven’t touched anyone gently since her.
With Adriana, it was never gentle. Never.
..human. Just something to take the edge off the craving, the noise, the rage.
A means to survive another night. But standing here with Emma, I know with terrifying clarity that I would rather be locked in a room and forced through withdrawal again and again than ever touch anyone but her.
Carrying her back to the bed, I lay her down and pull the blankets over us. She curls into my side instantly, her head on my chest, her leg thrown over mine. Her breathing evens out almost immediately, falling into the soft, deep rhythm of sleep.
I stroke her hair, listening to her breathe, feeling the steady beat of her heart. My body is exhausted, sore, and completely, utterly sated. For now.
My hand drifts down, resting possessively on the curve of her hip. I want to believe we can survive this—that somehow we’ll all walk out alive. But I’ve seen what happens to people who push too hard, who step out of line. I’ve watched men bleed out for far less.
And I’m about to really piss my handlers off.