Chapter 6 Brooks #2
"You're sure?" I have to ask, even though I'm one touch away from breaking.
"I'm sure. I need this, too. Need you."
I strip fast, gracelessly. I yank my shirt over my head, shove my jeans down.
When I straighten, I catch her watching me.
Her mouth parts slightly as her gaze drags over my bare chest, down to where I'm already hard and ready for her. We take off her clothes together with less urgency, as if she’s a gift I’m unwrapping.
I climb onto the bed, and my weight settles over her. She's swallowed by me, my size, my heat, my scent. Her hands splay across my chest, resting on my pecs.
“Your curves were made to fit under me,” I say, my voice cracking with everything I’ve been too afraid to say. “Made for me. Only me. God, I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that.”
Her eyes shimmer, wet and wide. “I love hearing that,” she says, fingers brushing my jaw like she’s scared I’ll vanish again. “I just need to hear you say you’re not leaving.”
“I’m not. Never again.” I lean down, forehead to hers. “I was terrified, babe. Terrified of how much I need you. But pushing you away almost killed me. You’re my whole world. Forgive me.”
“Already did,” she says, and the words break something open in my chest.
“That’s my girl.”
I kiss her slow and deep, pouring every apology into it, tongue stroking hers like I’m begging her to feel it.
My hands glide up her curves, thumbs tracing the underside of her tits until she arches, trembling.
When I finally cup her fully, she moans into my mouth, and the sound is forgiveness and hunger all at once.
I strip her bra away and just look at her. My voice is rough when I say, “These are mine. You’re mine. And I’m yours, if you’ll still have me.”
“Always,” she says, a single happy tear slipping free. “I never stopped.”
I drop my mouth to her tit, worshipping her nipple with slow, reverent pulls until she’s writhing. I know every secret now, exactly how hard to suck, how gentle to tease. I give it all, as though I’m proving I’ll never take her for granted again.
My hand slides lower. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“It won’t be,” she says, cupping my face. “I just need you close. Need to feel you’re really here.”
“I’m here.” I drag her damp panties down her legs, spread her open, and my voice cracks. “Jesus, look at you. So perfect.”
I settle myself between her thighs and kiss the tender skin there. “I don’t deserve this trust,” I say against her thigh, “but I’m going to earn it every single day.”
Then I taste her pussy with slow, deliberate licks that start at her entrance and drag all the way up to her swollen clit, parting her with the flat of my tongue so I can feel all of her open for me.
She’s velvet and salt, warm and trembling, and I groan against her clit at the first perfect rush of her on my tongue.
I trace her again, slower this time, swirling around her clit in lazy, worshipful circles before sealing my lips around it and sucking softly, pulsing in the rhythm of her heartbeat.
Her thick thighs jerk against my palms; I hold them open with steady hands, thumbs stroking the soft skin there like I’m cradling something sacred.
I lick deeper, spearing inside her, curling my tongue to drink every drop she gives me, then glide back up to flick and tease her clit until her hips strain toward my mouth and she’s gasping my name like a broken prayer.
I don’t rush. I savor. I memorize. I lick her open inch by trembling inch until her whole body is shaking, thighs quivering against my cheeks, fingers twisted tight in my hair, begging without words for the release only I can give her.
“Mine,” I whisper into her heat. “Say you’re still mine.”
“Yours,” she says. “Only yours.”
The words undo me. I slide two fingers deep, curl them, and suck her clit gently until she comes apart, pulsing around me, crying my name. I drink every shudder, kissing her through the aftershocks.
I rise over her, cock heavy and bare between us. I notch at her entrance and pause, eyes locked.
“Tell me again,” I beg, my voice raw.
“I’m yours,” she says fiercely, hands framing my face. “And I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”
“Thank God.” I sink into her, slow, bare, overwhelming. We both cry out at the feel of nothing between us. She’s molten heat and home, and I have to still for a second just to breathe.
“Feel that?” I whisper, starting to move in long, deep strokes. “That’s me coming home. Never leaving again.”
She wraps her legs around me, heels digging in, pulling me deeper. “Promise me,” she gasps with every thrust.
“I promise,” I swear against her lips. “I’m yours. Completely. Irrevocably. I’m done running.”
I angle my hips so my cock hits that spot that makes her sob my name. My thumb finds her clit, circling slow.
“Come with me,” I whisper. “Let me feel you forgive me one more time.”
She shatters, crying out, walls fluttering hard around me, dragging me over the edge. I bury myself deep and come with her name on my lips, pulsing inside her, filling her as I cling to her like she’s my lifeline.
“Mine,” I breathe into her neck, shaking with it. “And I’m yours. Forever. I’m falling for you, Elorie. Falling hard.”
She presses a kiss to my neck. “I’ve been falling for you for what feels like a hundred years. Do you think it’s too soon to call it love?”
“I would’ve called it love the moment I looked at the bookstore’s outlet if I’d known it would’ve led to us right here, right now.” My heart beats too fast in my chest.
“In that case, I love you.”
I lean in to kiss her. Before our lips meet, I whisper, “In that case, I love you back.”
We stay locked together, hearts hammering in sync. When I finally slip free, I pull her on top of me, arms wrapped tight.
I hold her closer, tears I’ll never admit to burning my eyes.
“You’re home,” I whisper. “And I’m never, ever pushing you away again.”
I kiss the top of her head, and we lie there wrapped in the promises we'll spend the rest of our lives keeping. Tomorrow, everyone will see it. The way I look at her. The way I can't keep my hands off her. Let them all know she's mine.
Through the window, the first hint of dawn paints the mountains orange and gold. The world is waking up, and so are we. For the first time since Marcus died, the future doesn't feel like something to fear. It feels like something to build. Something worth fighting for.
And I'll fight for it every day. For her. For us. For the life we're creating together.
Because she's mine. And I'm hers. And that's all that matters.