His Reverie (Reverie #1)(47)
“We’ll take it slow,” I tell her. “And I’ll make it good for you, whatever happens. I promise.”
“You already do that,” she says, her smile shy, yet her voice sultry. I don’t know how she does that, the innocent plus sexy thing she has going on, but I love it.
Probably a little too much.
“Come on.” I withdraw from her, not letting go of her hand. I want to keep us connected. This moment we’re about to create feels…larger than life. Like we’re about to turn another corner in our relationship. “Let’s lock up and get ready for bed.”
“Bed?” She flashes me that same shy smile, though it’s a little bigger this time. “That sounds so…”
“Scandalous? Wicked?” I waggle my brows at her, trying to lighten the moment.
She bursts out laughing. “I was going to say normal.” Her laughter dies as she stares at me. “You make me feel so normal. There’s always a label on me. Reverend Hale’s daughter. The little girl who used to sing hymns on TV. The religious girl at school other girls are afraid to talk to for fear I’m some preaching freak who wants to talk about God all the time.” Her voice drifts off, the sad expression on her face tearing me up inside. I hate it when she’s sad.
“Do people really think that?” I ask.
“Oh yeah.” She nods. “But you never have. You didn’t even know who I was.” And she sounds downright thrilled by it too.
“I knew you were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen,” I admit softly, making her smile.
She pulls me to her and kisses me right on the jaw. “Come on,” she whispers. “Let’s go to bed.”
We walk through the small apartment shutting off lamps and hitting light switches. She grabs her purse and brings it with her as we go to my bedroom, smiling shyly at me as I open the door. I’d left the bedside lamp on last time I went in there and now it casts a gentle glow throughout the room, which is small but somewhat decent thanks to some massive cleanup I’ve been performing the last few days when I could find the time.
“It’s nice,” she says as she steps inside, looking everywhere. At the walls, at my tiny desk, at the bookshelf Mom and I put together when I was in the eighth grade. “It’s so small.”
“My mom’s stuff is still in the master,” I say. “I just…don’t have the heart to change it. Not yet.”
“Oh.” She turns to face me, pity and sadness etched all over her delicate features. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure you’re not ready to move everything out yet.”
“No, I’m not.” She gets it and I love that about her. I don’t think anyone has ever understood me like Reverie does. “It’s still too soon. It’s not even been six months.”
“That is way too soon. You can clean it out when you’re ready. Don’t worry what anyone else thinks,” she reassures me, her gaze dropping to the bed. She chews on her lower lip nervously. “Your bed looks…comfortable.”
A simple navy blue comforter covers it. I’ve had the bed since I was twelve. It’s seen better days and it’s a double so it’s not very big but Reverie and I will fit. We’ll just have to lie real close together.
Such a hardship.
“It’s all right,” I say. “You want to test it out?” Her jaw drops and I chuckle. “What? Isn’t that why you’re here? To test out my bed?”
“I’m here because I want to spend time with you.” She reaches out and pulls at the bottom of my T-shirt, her hand sneaking underneath it, fingers tickling my stomach and making the muscles flinch. She flashes a knowing glance and just like that I’m hard. “And because I want to spend the night in your bed.”
“I knew it. You’re just using me for my bed.” I grab her by the waist, shocking her when I take her down with me so we’re both falling onto the mattress in a tangled heap. She’s struggling to get out of my hold, hitting my chest, laughing as I tickle her ribs. I coast my hands up, up further until they’re just below her br**sts, and I’m smoothing my thumbs along the bottom of her bra.
She stills, her breath hitching in her throat and I stare at her, waiting for some sign of approval. Not even a minute in and I might’ve already pushed her too far. I start to withdraw when she subtly arches her back, filling my hands with her br**sts.
There’s my answer.
Relief flooding me, I crash my lips onto hers, the touch of her tongue against mine sends a shockwave pulsating through my body. Her arms come up to weave around my neck, her fingers tunneling in my hair and holding me to her. Like I’m going to escape or something and she needs to grip me tight.
As if she has to worry about that. Wrapped around her on my bed is the only place I want to be.
I’m hungry. Fucking starved for more of her. I deepen the kiss, rolling her over so she’s on her back and I’m above her. All I can hear is our accelerated breaths, the creak of the mattress beneath us as we shift and move, the gasp that escapes her when I break away from her intoxicating lips to run my tongue along the length of her neck. Fuck, she tastes amazing.
“Oh,” she chokes out, sounding as overwhelmed as I feel.
The thin straps of her sundress are barriers I can definitely conquer. I ease one off her shoulder, along with the thin, lacy strap of her bra, my mouth blazing a path across her skin. She shivers, her hands falling to my shoulders and squeezing. Clinging to me.