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“Is that good or bad?”

“It’s both.” He sits up and flips me onto my back. “My turn to touch you all over.”

I moan softly. “Please, Braden. Please touch me.”

He begins at the top, gently kissing my forehead. It’s an almost nurturing feeling, as if he’s checking if I have a fever. Yet it’s not nurturing at the same time. It’s sensual because it’s Braden—the man I love and who loves me back.

I let my eyes flutter closed, and then his lips touch my eyelids in the softest of caresses.

He kisses my eyes. Such a minor thing, but it sends me reeling. Goosebumps erupt all over me, and my core pulses with aching need.

How will I survive this? Braden kissing and touching me all over when I need him inside me, fucking me?

I sigh as he moves his lips down my jawline while cupping my breasts at the same time. Fingers tease my nipples, and then he pinches them. I lift my hips with a moan. He’s kissing my neck now—that sensitive neck—and I shiver.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he says against my skin.

My hips rise again. Searching for him. His touch. His tongue. His fingers. His cock.

But I won’t give this up. As much as I need him inside me, I want to experience his touch. His ultimate caress.

He brushes his hands down my sides to my hips, which puts his mouth on target with my nipples.

“Please, Braden.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“My nipples. Suck my nipples.”

He flicks his tongue over one, making me gasp, and then he sucks on it lightly.

And it occurs to me. He asked what I want! Such a strange sensation, coming from Braden.

I just want to lie next to you, as your equal, and make love to you.

Such lovely words.

Am I missing the kink?

Yeah, sort of. He probably is, too. But this is something we both want, and it has its merits. A lot of merits, actually.

“I love you so much, Skye,” he says, after releasing the nipple.

“God, I love you too.”

“Your tits are so gorgeous.”

Nothing he hasn’t said before, but in his deep voice that sounds a little breathless right now, it’s completely different from the way he’s said it before in that dark and commanding voice.

Dark Braden isn’t gone. I know that instinctively. He’s only on hiatus. He’ll be back. He’ll be back when I can answer his question.

And I will answer his question.

I will find my truth, and I’ll share it with the man I love.

He slides from my breasts to my belly, dipping his tongue into my navel as he grips my hips. Then he flips me over like a pancake and slides his tongue between the cheeks of my ass.

“Mmm,” he groans. “Mine. This ass is mine.”

Dark Braden. I recognize him. Dark Braden has returned, and he wants my ass.

Then, almost as if he realizes what he’s doing, he slides downward, kissing the backs of my thighs and making me shiver. He kisses and caresses all the way down my legs to my feet, and then he kisses each of my toes and slides his tongue between them.

I never knew my feet were so sensitive.

He turns me over once more, this time a little more gently, and then he spreads my legs.

“So beautiful. Your pussy is wet for me.”

“God, yes.”

“I wanted to go slowly. To make real love, but I need you, Skye.” He climbs forward and thrusts his cock into me. “I need you now.”

So full. So complete. I close my eyes, expecting him to order them open. He doesn’t, but I open them anyway and meet his fiery gaze.

His eyes are full of need and passion. Full of love.

And I hope, as I gaze into them, he sees the same in my own.

For I feel all of that. Lust. Need. Passion. Love. So damned much love.

He descends slowly toward me until our lips touch. Then our tongues, and then the soft moans from each of our throats—his an octave lower than mine. It’s music, a discordant melody borne of our passion.

I realize, in this moment, that I’ve never made love with any man except Braden Black. And though this time is different, the other times with him were no less making love.

Making love isn’t about the act or how you do it. It’s about the love you feel in your heart and in your soul for your partner.

Braden increases the tempo of his thrusts, and I know he’s going to come. I’m close myself, not from the friction I usually crave, but from our bodies vibrating together in perfect synchrony.

“Skye,” he says, “I’m going to come. Come with me. Please.”

As always, at his urging, my body responds, and I burst into a shattering climax.

Never do I take my gaze from his. I wrap my arms around him, bring his head down to mine, and kiss him as we orgasm together. I thread my fingers through his silky hair, slide my hands down over his shoulders and then down his back to his ass, grabbing it and pushing him farther into me.


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