Perfectly Imperfect(102)



His fingers are curled into my hips, my soft skin giving to the pressure and his thumbs making deep impressions against my flesh. The sight of all my suppleness doesn’t shame me. Not while he’s looking at me with such voracity. The parts of me I had once hated have now become my favorite features because I know with just baring myself to him that he craves me fiercely.

He doesn’t hold back how much he loves my body. I glance back at him and watch his face as I bring my hands up and cup my heavy, sensitive breasts. Pinching my nipples between my fingers, squeezing the skin and letting out a shameless cry. And because I’m watching him, I’m instantly rewarded.

His eyes drink my actions in, the deepness in his harsh breathing reverberating through the room, as the color in his skin heats. His nostrils flare, and I know he might not be able to hold back much longer.

I look down my body, past my hands still torturing him with my fondling and to where the tip of his hard erection peeks out with each backward rock of my hips. The flesh red, swollen, and angry looking. Wet with my own desire as well as what I’m sure is a good mix of his.

Seeing our bodies, connected without being completely fused, makes my whole body tremble with need.

I drop my hands and lift my hips, his erection instantly springing free. The hardness hits my entrance. The jolt is so strong from the contact that it’s almost as if his body is begging me to drop and impale myself on him.

I look away from the sight between my legs and up to his face. The strain in his neck prominent and it looks like every vein in his body is visible as he is filled with the same overwhelming need that I am.

“Nothing between us,” I demand, and the harshness of his breathing picks up even more. We already talked about it, and since I’m covered, there is no need to continue allowing anything else from feeling each other completely.

“Never.” His gravelly voice moans low and deep in his throat in agreement.

My hips lift, just a little more, and as his fingers dig into mine with a pleasure-filled pain, I slam my body down on his length and that moan turns into dual groans of pure euphoria.

Our eyes never leave each other. I ride his body free of fear of what I might look like because the love blazing from his gaze leaves no uncertainty that I’m the most beautiful woman in the world to him.

My movements falter when he hits a spot so deep inside of me that I can hear my wetness with each slam of my hips. The pleasure is so intense I can no longer move on my own accord. Seeing my struggle, he knifes from his back and the next thing I know, my back is hitting the end of the bed and his hands are curling around my neck, holding my face still as he looks deep into me.

Searching as his hips power between my legs. Our cries bleeding together as we share the air between our lips.

No words are needed. Not when you can feel the love we have for one another with so much influence that it’s almost tangible. There isn’t anything between us at this moment. Our bodies move as one, our hearts beating in sync, and our souls finally coming home.

When the pleasure becomes too much, my mouth opens and I shatter. My whole body tightening, firing, and bursting in an explosion so bright that the heat only drives me higher and higher until I’m no longer sure I’m even breathing.

His own groans mix with my hoarse cries, and with one last powerful thrust, I feel the warmth of his climax spilling inside me.

It’s at this moment, right here, as we pant in the rawness of our lovemaking, that I know nothing will ever be able to take this from us. What we have is a once in a lifetime love that can never be broken. The world outside our happiness will never penetrate what we have built. There is no force strong enough out there that could ever sever what we share.

I feel supremacy in that knowledge. A solidification in what I have become. Everything I had gone through has brought me to this moment in his arms. Every spiral I fell and pain I endured made me worthy of not only my own love, but his as well.

I know that our world will be full of imperfection, but I’ve found my little slice of flawless love and happiness here in Kane’s arms. His love makes every second yet to come of our perfectly imperfect life something I know will never get old.

Our connection will never fade.

The magnificence that we both see in each other will only intensify the beauty we see in ourselves.

He was right when he said that it took two imperfect souls to form perfection together.

And with a deep sigh, I look up into his sapphire eyes and tell him, “I love you, Kane Masters.”

“And I love you, Willow Tate.” His contentment-filled smile is the last thing I see before he turns our bodies, wraps me tight in his arms, and I feel his words on my lips before he slants his head and takes my mouth in a deep, perfect kiss.





TO SAY THE LAST YEAR and a half had been drama free would be like saying an ice cube took down the Titanic. It wasn’t easy. Sometimes, it was unbelievably hard. But even on the darkest of those days, it was still the unbelievably beautiful. The serenity, even through the rumor mill wringers, couldn’t be beat.

The decision to keep the father of Mia’s son a secret from the world didn’t come without its struggles. Christian and Becca had been devastated. But even though it broke their hearts to know what their eldest son had done, they were over the moon with their first grandchild on the way. I think it helped to soften the blow … and, honestly, it made the following months worth it.

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