11. - – Sarah
CHAPTER ELEVEN
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SARAH
The neighborhood is quiet tonight as Marcus drives me home. Dinner was wonderful. The conversation was simple and easy, and there wasn’t a moment when I felt uncomfortable.
My heart races as we pull into my driveway. All the lights are off in the house. The kids are over at my mom’s tonight, so it’s just going to be me. These nights are the hardest. The time when my dreams feel like they become a reality, and there’s no one coming to save me.
But right now, I have hope in my heart.
He opens my door for me and helps me out of his truck. I can’t remember the last time anyone opened a door for me before tonight. We walk quietly up the walkway as I pull my keys from my purse.
I don’t want this night to end. I don’t want the comfort he brings to go away. Not right now. I put the key in the lock and unlock the door.
His eyes hold mine like he’s waiting for something. Permission maybe. A “I had a nice night, goodbye.” Something’s holding him back from pressing his lips to mine.
And for the first time in months, I don’t feel afraid. I feel… alive.
“My kids are at my mom’s tonight,” I murmur.
“I’m sure they’re having a blast.”
I play with the hem of my shirt as I look down the walkway. “Do you…” I clear my throat. “Do you, maybe, want to come in?”
His brows lift. “Sarah…” His voice is gravely, like his next words are going to be so hard for him to say. “You don’t have to?—”
“I know.” I step closer to him and curl my fist in his shirt. “But, I want to.”
He lets out a shaky breath, then follows me inside the house.
When I turn around, he’s standing in the entryway, watching me as if I might break at any moment. He looks like he is afraid to step further into my house.
I drop my purse as he closes the door behind him. “May I kiss you?” I whisper.
“Yes,” he growls.
I press my lips to his, soft at first. Tasting him.
Learning him like this is the very first time.
He cradles my face in his hands as if I might break, and I melt against him.
My hands trail up his chest to trace the muscles of his neck.
He walks us back toward the wall so slowly I could stop if I wanted to.
But I don’t, and when my back presses against the wall, I moan.
He lets out a sound of relief and hunger as he deepens our kiss, his hand traveling to the back of my head to hold me in place.
Heat blooms in my stomach as he presses his body against mine. His heat consumes me with every swipe of his tongue against mine.
He stops and pulls back just enough to whisper, “Upstairs?”
It should scare me. It should make me tell him to leave. But it doesn’t.
“Yes,” I breathe. “God, yes.”
He follows me upstairs, making sure not to touch me or make a sound. It’s almost like he is terrified I will bolt if he breathes too heavily.
When I get to the edge of my bed, I hesitate. He notices. I know he does. He notices everything.
“If you want me to leave, I will,” he says.
“No!” I clear my throat. “I mean, no. I don’t want you to leave. I mean, if you want to?—”
His lips crash onto mine. It quiets the voices in my head that tell me I’m not enough, and this is all a lie.
Once my shoulders relax, he pulls back. “I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to. But promise me you’ll tell me if something feels wrong.”
Too hot to speak, I nod.
I move first. Grabbing the hem of my sweater, I pull it over my head, and a soft gasp comes from his mouth as he takes me in.
His eyes darken as they roam my lace-covered breasts. I haven’t felt beautiful in such a long time, and I find myself wanting to hide from him. But he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Touch me,” I whisper.
He steps into me, trailing his hands down my side, tracing every inch like he’s memorizing me for later. Then his mouth finds my throat, and heat curls in my belly. I jolt when his tongue grazes my skin, and he freezes.
“I’m okay,” I say.
His answering groan vibrates against my skin as he laps at my clavicle. Slowly, he trails his hands to my waist and then the button of my jeans. He stops again. “Can I?”
“Yes.” I rest my hand on his shoulders as I step out of my pants, and when he removes his clothes and steps back, my breath catches.
He’s beautiful. Strong. Muscular. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting him.
He lifts me onto the bed like I’m something precious, and my legs open for him instinctively. I wrap my legs around his waist when he settles between them.
He brushes a thumb over my cheek and looks me in my eyes.
Pulling him down to me, I press my forehead against his. “I need you. I just need you.”
He pushes into me slowly. Inch by inch until my gasp turns into a moan. Pleasure floods me as he bottoms out. I clutch at his shoulders, needing to be grounded in him.
He pulls out, then inches back in, and my back arches. “Oh my God,” I whisper. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He moves. Deep, slow thrusts in and out of me until I throw my head back as pleasure slams into me. His mouth finds mine, swallowing any sound I make.
I feel nothing but him. His pleasure. His warmth. Filling every space inside my pussy, my mind, and my soul. “Fuck,” I moan as it pushes me over the edge, and I fall. I fall so hard my body shakes, and I rake my nails down his back.
He growls, breath hitching as he stills, finishing inside me. He kisses me once more and sinks into the bed behind me, his cock still inside me.
He kisses my shoulder. “Is this okay?”
I nod, too full of bliss to speak. That was a mind-numbing orgasm. I’ve never felt so safe and secure.
His cock softens, but he still doesn’t pull out.
“Can I stay?” he mumbles against my back, his hand trailing light circles over my hip.
My heart skips a beat.
It's been months since I slept with someone in my bed. Months of loneliness and nightmares. Maybe they won’t come if he’s here.
“Yes.”