When the Heart Falls(49)

I know, then, that there is more to his story as well, but we will share our deeper pains another day. For now, we share our bodies, our hearts, our souls.

His touch changes me, reshapes me from the inside. He explores my body first with his hands, molding them over my curves, then memorizing those curves with his tongue and lips. I gasp as his tongue flicks at a hard nipple, astonished that I can feel the pleasure and pressure of that touch through the core of my body.

I’ve never wanted anything more than I want him in this moment. I fall back onto the bed, and he spreads my legs and centers himself between them, his jeans barely containing his own evidence of arousal.

Emboldened by this position, and what it promises, I prop myself up and unbutton his jeans. He’s rock hard and so big I’m not sure how I’ll take him all into me, but the sight of him increases the tightness I feel.

He growls, placing his hands around my hips, and pulls me closer to him until he’s rubbing up against me, stimulating the swollen nub of flesh that feels on fire with need.

But instead of penetrating me, instead of satiating that need that’s threatening to undo me, he pulls away.

A moan escapes my lips, and he chuckles and sprinkles kisses down my body, over my belly and… Oh God.

Oh God!

The moment his tongue dips into me, my body tightens into a mass of taut muscle.

With one hand he works his fingers into me, adding another layer of pleasure to the experience while his tongue continues to tease and torment. With the other hand, he finds my breasts, alternating between the two as he rubs my nipples.

I’m coiling tighter and tighter, everything inside of me pooling to the center of my being. I’m on the ledge, unable to sustain rational thought.

And then I plunge. Into the depths of pleasure. My insides unraveling as waves of ecstasy crash into me.

I’m moaning, writhing, begging him to fill me.

He presses his body against me, lifting himself to face me. “Darling, I would love to accommodate your needs, and mine. I don’t suppose you brought that little care package your cousin packed for you?”

It takes a moment to process his words and make sense of them. My cousin? Why are we talking about my cousin? And then it hits me, and I burst out laughing. “Oh my God! She may have just saved herself from my wrath. It’s still in my bag. You can go get it. I’m not sure I can walk right now.”

He laughs and scoots off me. I feel empty without him, my body primed and desperate for his touch, to feel him deeply.

He tears open a condom and slips it on, then hovers over me. “Are you sure this is what you want? We can stop now, just say the word.”

I nod, tears leaking out of my eyes, all fears gone. “It’s what I want. You’re what I want.”

My nails dig into his shoulders as he slowly pushes himself into me. There’s some pain, but the waves of pleasure override that, and I lift my hips to meet his, forcing him to enter me completely.

Our bodies find a rhythm that builds and builds, more slowly this time, but with a deeper intensity, that sets my entire body aflame. When he explodes inside me, my body joins his as we dive off the cliff together, lost in each other’s arms.





WINTER DEVEAUX

CHAPTER 21





I WAKE UP in his arms, his chest pressed against my back, our legs intertwined. We’re naked, and my morning breath embarrasses me, but he’s still asleep, the sound of his breathing light and soothing. Taking care not to wake him, I slip out of bed, rush through my normal morning routine and stoke the fire we left on all night. It’s a chilly morning, the windows still wet from the storm, and I don warmer clothes and, laptop in hand, sneak back into bed to write while enjoying the nearness of him.

Last night changed me, woke up some dormant part of my soul and remade me into something new. I’m not the girl I was before, not the girl who fears intimacy and the touch of a man. Not the girl who pulls away when someone gets too close.

My blood boils hot, like any other healthy woman, and I love it. I love this feeling, and I love him.

The man sleeping next to me.

The man who helped me cross my darkest chasm into the brightest light.

But it’s too soon for love, isn’t it? That’s what people would say. Except, the heart feels what it feels. He’s become a part of me. Our daily study sessions and walks through Paris. Our hours and hours talking about nothing and everything. Our night, together, exposed and accepted by each other.

My laptop comes alive, and I finally know how to write romance, how to write love, passion, and all the things that make life worth living.

The chapters fly out of me, my fingers moving over the keys so fast I’m not even reading my own words, just writing the song that’s in my heart.

As another chapter ends, I pause, looking at Cade, gliding a finger over his face, feeling the heat of his skin, the stubble on his chin. Words tumble out of me in a whisper.

"She opened herself to him, and, in that moment, she opened herself to the world. Let it hurt her. Let it burn her veins, boil her blood and scorch her heart. For where there could be pain, there could be pleasure and love. She would be cold no longer. She would melt the hearts of others, and in turn, they would melt hers. She would feel the full spectrum of emotions and cry. She would be human. And she would be happy."

My finger slides down his lips and then back to my keyboard, and I capture those words on my screen.