He circled his hands around both of her ankles and forced her legs to part. She craned her neck to catch a glimpse of him. He caressed his way up her calves, dabbled at the backs of her knees and finally reached the curve of her rear. He traced a heart-shaped pattern around one side, all the way to her lower back, and then down the other side of her.
When he knelt, his face directly in line with the soaking heart of her, she rested her cheek on a pillow and closed her eyes, savoring every illicit sensation. It felt as though she were being worshipped.
Soft lips pressed into the underside of one globe, then the other. Tremors consumed her. He angled his head and— Oh...oh! His tongue. It stroked her where she ached, her body rejoicing even as it demanded more. She arched her back to allow him better access, and he took full advantage, thrusting his tongue inside her. He pinched her directly between her legs and slid his fingers through her wetness, allowing them to take the place of his tongue, moving in and out of her. He scissored them to open her wider, his thumb sliding up to her center and circling, pressing.
She fisted the sheets as moan after moan was ripped from her. Both the position and the pleasure left her vulnerable to him. Like this, there was nothing he couldn’t do to her—and she wanted him to do everything. There was nothing she would deny him.
Thoughts disintegrated then, the way he worked her a testament to the endless depths of the starvation she’d seen in him. Her tremors intensified. The heat inside her built, becoming an inferno. Pressure...so much pressure, building just like the heat, with the heat, and any second she expected to—
Shatter.
His hand swiped at her ankle, sending her legs farther apart, allowing his fingers to sink all the way in, and the pressure exploded inside her, the most sublime satisfaction clamoring through her, shaking her. But even as she shook, Jase took her by the hips and flipped her over, so that she lay on her back.
He towered between her legs. His lips glistened with her arousal, his chest rising and falling with a swiftness that matched her own. As she watched, he unfastened the button of his pants and lowered the zipper, freeing himself.
He lifted one of her legs and set her foot on the mattress, then did the same with the other, leaving her spread wide. His gaze locked on the heart of her, heating...burning...and he traced a fingertip down the center, drawing another cry from her...and a consuming need for more.
“I thought Strawberry Valley had become my home,” he said. “But it’s you. You are my home, angel. You’re where I’ve put down roots.”
The words cauterized a wound she hadn’t known she had—one she’d carried most of her life, festering every time she’d wondered how good people could die too young. Why her uncle couldn’t love her and her sister more than money. Why Jessie Kay had often chosen a party over helping Brook Lynn.
Yet here was this man—her love—telling her she was home to him.
She arched her hips in silent benediction. He fisted his erection at the base and placed himself at her entrance, letting the tip slide in...before stilling, hovering there, teasing and tormenting her with what could be.
“You’re mine,” he said. His gaze captured hers, emerald completely ensnaring blue, and he slid the rest of the way in, filling her, stretching her, fusing with her. “Never forget.”
“Never.”
He flattened his palms on her knees, keeping her spread as he slowly pumped in and out. Her nipples were so hard they could have cut through diamonds, her belly so hot with need she wasn’t sure she would ever be satisfied again, but he just kept pumping. The hardness and the need grew stronger, until the pleasure poised at the brink of agony.
She reached back, curled her fingers around a pillow, arching her hips to propel him into a faster rhythm. He resisted, even...slowed down...until she could only writhe and beg incoherently.
“Please, Jase. Oh, please. Jase, Jase. Please.”
He slammed forward with all of his considerable strength. Yes! Yes! But he only slowed down again, his gaze once again capturing hers. Sweat trickled from his temples, and tension tightened his skin, but the adoration he projected at her...the tenderness...the hope and the gratitude...
“Please.”
Another hard slam.
It was too much, finally pushing her over the edge. She shouted with her pleasure—a burn that might have started slowly but one that exploded just as savagely as the other, no, more so, breaking her down into a quivering pulse of sensation.
Jase launched into the hard-and-fast ride she’d begged for, thrusting, thrusting inside her, rattling the entire bed, somehow prolonging her orgasm, keeping her suspended on clouds of unending carnality.
Like an out-of-body experience, she thought, dazed. Slowly she floated back, finding Jase collapsed over her, little shudders still rocking him.
He lifted his head and smoothed damp locks of hair from her face. “If I’ve got my hooks in you, it’s only right you bear my name. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you...asking me to marry you?”
He laughed. “Asking? Oh, no, angel. It’s too late for that. I’m telling.”
Had those words come from any other man, she would have balked. From Jase...
With a squeal, she used what little strength she had left to wrap herself around him. “I’m going to make you the happiest man in the world, Jase Hollister.”
“Angel,” he said, kissing her. “You already do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I’M ENGAGED.