Ginger's Heart (A Modern Fairytale, #3)(140)

“I’m sorry,” he sighed breathlessly.

“Don’t be,” she murmured. “I needed this too.”

“What do you need, baby?” he asked, his tongue darting out to lick her neck as his hands slid between the desk and her dress to massage her breasts.

She whimpered, pressing her ass back against him. “More.”

Withdrawing slowly, Cain thrust forward again, and Ginger moaned loudly. “More.”

Winding her hair in his hand, Cain pulled, firmly but gently, as he withdrew from her, then slammed forward again.

“Oh my God,” she moaned. “Again.”

His other arm looped around her waist, and he pulled her up off the desk a fraction of an inch. “Hold on, Gin.”

She flattened her palms on the desk, and he pumped into her again, but his arm skated lower until he could slip his hand into the slick, vibrating folds of her clit. His middle finger, coarse and hot, found the sensitive bud of flesh and circled it as he pulled on her hair and thrust greedily inside her again.

“I want you to scream my name,” he growled. “I want you to scream my name when you come, princess.”

She nodded, barely able to make words, her body so tight, aching so terribly with her need for release. She only managed a weak, “Okay.”

“You ready for me?”

“Please,” she begged him.

The pad of his finger pressed directly on her clit, rubbing as he thrust into her, faster and faster, her orgasm building to such a massive, almost excruciating pitch, she stopped breathing and her forehead hit the desk just as her body buckled with convulsions and she heard “Cain!” ripped from her throat.

“Ah! Princess!” he groaned, sliding his hands to her hips and holding her in place as he withdrew all the way from her body, then thrust into her with such force, she felt his cock touch her womb and explode with the power of his climax, hot and wet, pumping into her rhythmically until she realized that she was lying on the desk and he was lying on her back.

She was boneless.

She was barely alive.

She was satisfied.

“Mmm,” she murmured, feeling her heartbeat in her temples and ears, and his against her back in strong, rapid beats.

“Are you okay?” he panted close to her ear.

“Oh my God,” she said. “I had no idea . . .”

“That it could be like this?”

“That I could want it so bad,” she confessed as her breathing finally started returning to normal. “That I could love it so much.”

He chuckled, gently withdrawing from her body. Placing an arm under her waist, he pulled her back against him as he sank into a guest chair, holding her on his lap. Her head was on his shoulder, her feet were draped over the arm, and Cain looked down at her, his blue eyes shining with love.

“Hello, girlfriend.”

“Hello, lover,” she said, grinning up at him, loving the softness in his chiseled face, knowing that she was the one who put it there.

“Happy Tuesday.”

“So far, so good,” she said.

He leaned down and kissed her lips tenderly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Move in with me,” he said, searching her eyes.

She chortled, then sobered when she realized he wasn’t kidding. “Cain. We’ve been dating for five minutes.”

“We’ve known each other for over two decades and been in love for at least one.”

“Woodman died in the fall. It’s only winter.”

“He wanted us to be together.”

She dropped his hopeful eyes, adjusting her dress over her lap.

“Ginger?” he prompted.

She took a deep breath before meeting his gaze. “I’m not ready yet.”

His lip twitched to the side with disappointment, and his grin faded, but he nodded in acceptance.

“But I will be,” she said. “Soon.”

He shrugged, giving her a small smile. “Can’t blame me for tryin’.”

“Don’t stop,” she said, adjusting her legs on his lap and feeling the evidence of their lovemaking between her thighs. “I need to get cleaned up.”

He held her tighter. “Not yet. Tell me about your gran.”

She sighed, laying her head back on his shoulder. “Same. Fadin’.”

“You saw her yesterday?”

Ginger nodded, sorrow filling her heart. “She doesn’t know me anymore. She called me Amy the whole time.”

“Your aunt.”

“I didn’t know her. She died before I was born.”

“Maybe it’s not such a bad thing,” said Cain gently, his hand stroking her bare arm.

“How do you mean?”

“I imagine losin’ a child is the worst thing that can happen to someone . . . but now? Her Amy’s back. She can see her and talk to her, and . . .” He shrugged, looking sad. “. . . maybe it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

This hadn’t really occurred to Ginger, but she felt an odd comfort in it, that her Gran was passing, little by little, from this world to a place where she could be together with her baby girl forever.

“You believe in heaven, Cain?”

“Do you?”