Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(48)
“Promise,” he growled, grabbing the back of her head and crushing his mouth to hers. A breath, a blink, a heartbeat passed and Eva was gripping him, grabbing at his hair and climbing up his body, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He fought desperately against the images that assaulted him while battling the rising nausea in his gut as he tried to give her what she needed, what they both needed…and failed.
“Fuck,” he whispered, pulling away from her mouth, tears burning in his eyes. “I can’t…not yet.”
“No,” she cried, gripping his face, forcing him back. “No, no, no, please, Deuce, please…I’m yours, baby, I’ve always been yours. Please, baby, please make me yours again…please make it good again.”
His tears spilled over and he gritted his teeth, feeling pathetic, hating the fact that he was crying, hating being helpless, just f*cking hating everything and everyone.
“Please don’t stop,” she choked out, her own tears falling. “Please.”
He grabbed her before he could think twice about it, determined to make good on his promise. He grabbed her and kissed her and she kissed him back, hard and fast, and in turn he kissed her harder and she gripped him tighter and it became a battle for control, for power, but not power over each other, power over their life together, power to regain control of what had been so brutally ripped away from them.
“Say it,” he rasped. “Fuckin’ say it, Eva, say it right the f*ck now.”
“I love you,” she cried softly. “No one else, baby, not like this, not the way I’ve always loved you.”
“How much do you love me?” he asked hoarsely, cupping her breast and squeezing.
“You already know,” she whimpered. “You’re everything to me, everything, you always have been, baby…” She trailed off and peeked up at him with those damn eyes of hers. Staring straight into his rotted-out soul, supercharging him with need.
He needed to lay claim to her once and for all, to strip her of that beautiful spirit, to keep it safe, protected inside him so that no one, not one single motherf*cking thing or person could ever take her away from him again.
“You’re my reason, Deuce,” she whispered through her tears. “You always have been.”
He stopped moving and stared at her.
Her reason.
Him.
The knowledge propelled him forward and he found himself pushing inside of her, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, splashing against her chest as he shuddered through the onslaught of both unwanted memories and wanting, needing to be inside of her for so long now and not being able to.
And then…
He groaned as she quivered, moaning as she stretched for him.
Fuck, she was tight and wet and his, she was all his.
“I love you,” she whimpered, her head falling backward. “I love you so, so much, Deuce.”
Fuck him.
“Eva,” he rasped, cupping the back of her head and forcing her to look at him. “Marry me, darlin’.”
A sob escaped past her beautiful lips and her eyes filled up again. He took her mouth in his and kissed her softly, slowly, making his way across her cheek to her ear, where he paused.
“One more time, babe,” he whispered. “Marry me?”
“Yes,” she breathed out.
He closed his eyes.
He was home.
It had taken him nearly half a century to get there, but he’d made it.
He was finally, finally f*cking home.
“Deuce?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re gonna have to call Christine.”
His eyes flew open and he glared down at Eva, wondering why the f*ck she was talking about his ex when he was balls-deep inside her, asking her to marry him.
“Why the f*ck do I gotta—”
She placed a finger over his lips and smiled. “In case you forgot, baby, you’re still married. Kinda makes it hard to marry me.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes again. “Fuck, f*ck, f*ck.”
“She’s going to want money,” Eva mused.
“Yeah.”
“A lot of money.”
“Yeah.”
“She’s—”
“Jesus Christ, woman, shut the f*ck up. Here I am tryin’ to f*ck you and you’re tryin’ to make me blow a f*ckin’ hole in my skull.”
“Sorry.” She giggled.
Deuce glared down at her until he couldn’t continue glaring at her perfect, smiling face and ended up smiling like a damn fool himself.
“Eva?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m gonna f*ck you now.”
“Okay,” she whispered, running her index finger underneath his bottom lip. “But, Deuce?”
“Babe?”
“I want it slow.”
He grinned.
Then he gave it to her slow.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Hello?” I said breathlessly, nearly falling out of bed trying to grab my cell phone off the nightstand.
“Eva’s tellin’ me you’re campin’ with Anabeth and her family?”
My brain stalled out.
Father.
My father was on the phone.
And I’d completely forgotten about everything other than Ripper and the past week we’d spent together.