When I Was Yours(72)

My easel is set up by the window, like it never left. My sketchpad that I left behind is on the table. Beside it are unfinished sketches. My pencils, the ones he bought me, are in their holder.

Our wedding rings are on the dresser. Our wedding picture is in the frame that Max bought us as a gift. The pendant I bought Adam for his birthday is hanging over the corner of the frame.

And my wedding dress has been hanging in the closet, the only thing in there.

The room is filled with him and me, our past, and I need to know what this means.

Why did he keep these things? Why does he still have them after all these years? And why keep them in this room of all places? In his old bedroom where so many of our memories were made?

I have to talk to him.

I put my wedding dress back where I found it and leave the room.

His bedroom door is open, but he’s not in there.

I head down the stairs. Turning into the living room, I see him standing at the glass doors, his back to me, as he is staring out at the twilight sky.

“Adam…”

His whole body stiffens at the sound of my voice. On quiet feet, I move across the wood floor toward him.

When I reach him, I stop just a step away. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t prying, I swear. I only went in there because…memories, you know. I just wanted to remember the good times. I had no idea…all those things…our things…were in there.”

I tentatively lift my hand. Carefully, I touch his back with the tips of my fingers. “You kept…everything. Why?”

He spins around. Grabbing my wrist, he yanks me to him, so my chest slams into his, forcing the air out of me. He stares down at me, a mixture of hurt and anger and frustration in his eyes. “I don’t want to talk. I just…” He squeezes his eyes shut. Then, they flash back open, and without another word, he slams his lips down on mine.

Even though kissing him is probably the wrong thing to do right now, I don’t stop him. If anything, I encourage it.

Just the feel of his mouth on mine…it’s like I’m finally breathing again after being underwater for too long.

Adam’s an addiction I could never give up.

I wrap my arms around his neck, parting my lips, letting his tongue have the entry it’s seeking.

He kisses me rough, frantic. His hands are everywhere, like he can’t touch enough of me.

Spinning me around, he pushes me against the wall. “I need to be inside you.” He breathes heavily against my mouth. “I just f*cking…need…you, Evie.”

His words are my undoing.

His fingers skim my thighs. He takes hold of the hem of my dress. Bunching it up in his hands, he pulls it up and over my head.

I rip his shirt off, sending buttons scattering everywhere.

That’s when things get a little crazy.

Literally tearing off my bra, he slips his fingers into the cups, curling his hands into fists around it, and rips my bra in half. He shoves it off my shoulders, and I shake it the rest of the way to the floor.

I can’t even bring myself to care that he’s just shredded my new bra, the one I bought with the matching panties, which also just lost their life to his hands.

The silky material floats to the floor, landing on my bare feet, and I kick it away.

We both go for the button on his jeans at the same time. He lets me undo it.

I yank the zipper down, loving the sound it makes. It gives me chills, knowing that I’m that much closer to having him inside me. His eyes watch me the whole time.

When I have his jeans open, Adam shoves them down over his hips. That’s when I see he’s commando underneath them.

Holy f*ck.

There’s just something about knowing he was naked underneath there the whole time that drives me wild, turning me on beyond reason.

I stare down at the beautiful sight of his thick cock straining upward, wanting me. My mouth waters.

That’s what I do to him.

It gives me a feeling of immense power, something that I rarely feel around Adam.

I want to drop to my knees, take him in my mouth, and taste him, but I don’t get a chance.

His hands go to my ass, and he lifts me, shoving me back against the wall.

Then, his mouth is on mine again, devouring me, as his cock thrusts up inside me.

I scream his name into his mouth.

But there’s no respite, no time to adjust to his size. He just starts f*cking me, hard and thorough, and it’s so damn f*cking good. He’s relentless, like a machine, and I love it.

I love him.

“Mine.” He slams home, his eyes pinned on mine. “Right now, you belong to me,” he growls.

“Yes,” I cry out.

My fingers slide into his hair, gripping it. I pull his mouth back to mine, and I kiss him hard and deep. I give all I can, and he takes it.

Then, suddenly, he pulls away from the wall, taking me with him, causing me to squeal out in surprise. I lock my ankles together around his back, my arms tight around his neck. We’re moving through the living room, him carrying me, still inside me.

“Where are we going?” I ask, clinging to him like a spider monkey.

I’ve always loved how strong Adam is. He carries me like there’s no effort at all, like I weigh nothing. And I definitely weigh something. The tubs of Chunky Monkey I eat regularly have made sure of that. But he makes me feel sexy and feminine in only that way he can.