Chapter 23 Julianna #2
I squeeze my pillow, allowing his touch to shoot straight for my heart.
I let him in, holding the door I’ve guarded for so long open for him to walk straight through.
Squirming, I start moving my legs, wetness building between my thighs.
I’m practically bursting with need for Rome Montgomery.
I’m relishing in having him close to me again.
I didn’t realize how much I’d missed having him close this way until now.
Like this gaping hole inside me has been filled.
“Look at me, Lark.” He adds pressure to his fingertips, urging me to turn around.
I do as he says and turn to see his handsome face has softened, despite the hunger in his eyes.
“Say it again,” he rasps. “To my face.”
My gaze drops to his neck, to the lark, before I’m looking back into his eyes.
No one has ever looked at me the way he does.
His hand traces my face until he moves it to the back of my head.
His fingers lacing through my hair does something to me.
He pulls me closer until our bodies are pressed against one another’s.
I wish I weren’t wearing my lace pajama set and he wasn’t wearing a shirt with those insatiable sweatpants.
Pressing his forehead to mine, he gasps. I can feel how hard his body is vibrating, hearing me confess my secret. I’ve never truly hated Rome, not since the day we met in the library and my secret pen pal turned out to be my long-time enemy. These past eleven days have only solidified the truth.
Everything shifts. All of the anguish. The facade I’ve put up. All of it disappears in the way Rome is looking at me, touching me, kissing me.
“Say it again,” he begs, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please, say it again. I need to hear it.”
“I don’t hate you,” I repeat, sliding my hand along his abs and to his chest. He opens his eyes on a sigh.
“I’ve been angry for so long over what happened, losing our daughter, our families’ vendettas being used against us…
you sleeping with Macy that night. I’ve been shutting you out, not telling you the truth.
I guess I was using it to cope with my reality.
I told you I felt like drowning when I look at you because you remind me of everything that’s ever truly mattered to me.
Everything I’ve lost. Outside earlier, at shooting practice, when you asked me the second reason why I host those fundraising events…
” I bite back the sob threatening to take over.
“The events are a distraction. A distraction from the life I could have had, was supposed to have with you. A distraction from her being on my mind all the time. This is why I’ve been living the way I have.
I’ve curated this life so different from the one I pictured I’d have with you.
One where I’m not married to a man I both love and hate.
And one where we didn’t lose our child.” I’m breaking. “She had your eyes, Rome.”
The pain in his eyes is unmissable.
“I know, Lark.” He gulps. “And she had your nose.”
He stares at me with his heartbreak on display, and I fight to keep myself together. Every thought I’ve kept to myself, all the times I’ve pushed him away, refusing to tell him how I’ve felt is laid out on the table.
“I’m sorry I haven’t let you in. I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you away,” I tell him.
Tears line Rome’s eyes, and I wrap my hand around his face, the stubble lining his jaw prickling my palm. I relish in his warmth as he leans into my hand, using me as an anchor. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, a tear falls.
There’s only been one time I’ve seen Rome Montgomery cry. The day we lost our daughter.
“I’ve been pushing you away, too.” He presses his other hand to the small of my back, pulling me closer. “I guess we figured it was easier to live with the hate rather than the love, huh?”
He feathers his lips to mine, and it feels as if he’s draped a warm blanket over me. I hitch my leg over his hip, bringing our bodies closer.
“I have one more confession to make,” I tell him.
He brushes his nose against mine, and I can tell it’s taking everything in him not to kiss me right now.
“I’m tired of hating my husband when all I’ve ever done is love him.”
I’ve barely lifted my focus from his mouth to his eyes when he steals my mouth. His lips melt against mine, and he’s literally breathing life into me. Again, my body lights up at his touch. He’s dragging me out of the graveyard, only this time I’m going with him willingly.
“I love you,” he says against my mouth, and I honestly can’t think of the last time my life felt this whole.
I would say it was the last time we were together, before we lost everything, but I’d be wrong. Even then, we weren’t completely free and happy. Family hatred hung over us like a dark cloud, dictating every move we made.
But this is different. We’ve changed yet, somehow, we still found our way back to each other.
His hand wraps around my thigh as he rolls onto his back, pulling me on top of him.
I straddle his waist, his thick, hardened cock pressing against me.
Sitting back, I tuck my hair behind my ear and stare down at him.
Rain pelts the window, the swaying branch still scraping against the glass, but I’m no longer afraid.
As long as I have Rome, there’s no fear.
I’m tired of running.
Sliding my hands along his rock-hard stomach, I slip his shirt up. He follows my lead, sitting up high enough to remove it. He tosses it aside and lays back on the pillow.
Spreading my hands over his body, I take in each tattoo before tracing the rose inked into his ribs. Then I lean down, sliding my hands over his neck.
He tilts his chin, gazing at me with insatiable hunger. I trace the lark’s wings as Rome whispers, “Do you know why I got the lark tattoo on my neck?”
I stare into his eyes. “No.”
He reaches down, grabs the hem of my white lace top, and lifts it over my head as he smooths his hands over my bare back, keeping me close. “Because without you, I can’t breathe. You’re my reason for breathing, Julianna Capuleti.”
My skin is humming and despite the darkness of the bedroom, all I see is color.
“Montgomery.” I tilt my mouth, bringing it close to his. “My name is Julianna Montgomery.”
It feels right saying it out loud, as though it’s what it was meant to be all along.
His lips curl in satisfaction. He threads his fingers through my hair, tightening his grip when he reaches the back of my head. His other hand dips between us, his fingers finding my clit through my shorts.
I moan, rocking my hips into his hand. He releases a low growl before he tears his hand away and spins me around until my back lands against the bed.
Kneeling between my legs, he bends down to kiss me.
It isn’t soft and gentle, it’s possessive and hungry, like he’s been waiting an eternity for me to say the words I just spoke out loud.
Every kiss is a bandage. Every kiss is a stitch on our wounds.
We’ve spent ten years working triage, doing whatever it takes to stop the bleeding, but these past eleven days have shown us how we haven’t been living.
And only existing to survive isn’t a life at all.
My stomach flutters when he pulls his mouth from mine.
He tears my shorts from my body before sliding back off the bed only to remove his sweatpants.
Then he’s climbing his way back to me. With bent legs, he parts my knees, crawling to me with a hooded, starving gaze.
With every inch he grows closer, he stops to plant a kiss on the inside of my thighs.
His teeth graze my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
I tilt my head back, gasping for breath.
The oxygen is completely sucked out of my lungs the second I feel him slide into me. He fills me to the hilt, slamming into me.
Once I’ve adjusted to his thickness, I look up at him. Both his hands are on either side of my head, pressing into my pillow. His dark hair hangs over his forehead, framing those blue eyes I’ve fallen in love with again and again.
Pressing a palm to the side of my face, he pulls his hips back and slams into me again.
My walls tighten around him, and a satisfied cry squeaks out of my throat. I feel him everywhere, all at once.
He leans down and kisses me, biting down on my lip as he pulls away with a growl.
I wrap my hands around his waist, dragging my nails over his skin, pulling my legs closer to my body, allowing him to go deeper. He picks up the pace, and I feel myself already getting close to my orgasm.
I make sure to catch his gaze when I say, “Tell me you love me.”
His expression falters for a moment. When he doesn’t immediately answer, I spin us back around, never breaking apart.
I straddle him, lifting myself up and down.
I take a few seconds to settle in the feel of me being on top of him now as I plant my hands on his chest and curl my fingers as my walls tighten around his cock.
“Oh, shit,” I pant, knowing I’m close. I stare into Rome’s eyes and repeat, “Tell me you love me.”
His eyes roam over my body as he moves his hands over my thighs and my hips, guiding me over his length.
I roll my hips, heat blooming across my skin.
My thighs clench, and my walls tighten as his hand slips between us again.
But this time, my shorts aren’t in the way, and his fingers find my aching, wet clit immediately.
I’m bursting already. Tiny fireworks spread down my arms and legs as he circles the bud.
Sitting up, he brings his face close to mine. His hot breath brushes across my mouth when he finally says, “I love you, Lark.”
I bite down on my lip and drape my arms around his neck. “Yes,” I hiss, unable to old back any longer. “Say it again.” I toss my head back, squeezing my eyes shut as my walls clench around him.
“I love you. Now, fucking come for me like a good girl.”
Immediately, my entire body bursts, my orgasm ripping through me. And when Rome’s arms wrap around me and he’s burying his face in my neck, biting down on my neck as his cock throbs inside me with his orgasm, I can’t stop smiling.
I don’t want it to end.