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“Hayes,” I pant between kisses, planting my feet on the mattress, lifting to meet every downward thrust of his hips.

His mouth trails up my neck. His teeth nip at my lobe. He’s trying to consume me, so he doesn’t answer. Not that I’m surprised. When Hayes concentrates on something, his focus is absolute. That’s the case as he kisses his way across my shoulders, past my collarbones, and heads straight for my nipples. And just like yesterday, when he takes one in his mouth, pleasure feels like a live wire sizzling my whole body. I’m struggling to process those sensations when his fingers find their way into my panties, and he settles a pair of fingers over my sensitive clit.

Slowly, torturously, he rubs me. My back arches. My legs go taut. I cry out. Ecstasy threatens to overtake me, erasing everything except my love for Hayes.

“Look at you…” he breathes against my breasts. “So trembling and rosy, willing to surrender every part of yourself to me.”

“I’ve saved it all for you,” I gasp.

“I know, shortcake. I’m so fucking lucky. I’m going to treasure every bit while I worship you. When I’m done, you’ll never doubt again how much I want you. Or how much I love you.”

At those words, I shiver. Then he takes my nipples—one after the other—into his mouth while his fingers work me mercilessly. The ache is more than I can bear. The closer he brings me to the edge, the more I shudder and plead. The harder I pant. The more desperately I need.

“Hayes! Please. Now.”

He strips off my panties and runs his fingertips slowly, reverently over the bare pad of my pussy, despite the fact I’m a shaking, pleading mass of arousal. I love the way he looks at me when he’s got his hands on me, like I’m his wonderful everything. But he’s not undressing himself so he can make love to me.

That’s not okay.

“You have to stop touching”—my breath hitches when he skims my most sensitive spot—“me. You’re tormenting me.”

“I am. You’re amazing, so soft and swollen. So wet. I love watching you shiver and pant. Just a little more…”

“Now!” I shove him to his back and attack the button at his waistband.

A smile plays at Hayes’s lips. “Eager much?”

Isn’t he? Maybe not yet. I haven’t had the chance to get my hands on him. Though the tables are turned, my body hums as if his fingers still flirt between my legs and his tongue still grazes the hard tips of my breasts. It’s driving me insane. But I’m dying to excite him just as much.

I yank down his zipper and tug his shorts off. Then I stare at his cock—long and thick with a rigid staff and a head purple with need. I swallow, and my mouth goes dry.

“What if I do this?” I whisper as I wrap my hand around his cock, pumping him slowly, moving above him to settle my mouth on his nipples.

“Fuck,” he groans, seeming to melt into the mattress. “The feel of your hand on me… Oh, damn.”

“Eager now?”

“Shortcake, I’ve been eager since I realized I was in love with you.” His breaths are labored. “I just want you to be ready so it doesn’t hurt. I want it to be good for you.”

Every time I think I can’t love Hayes more, he says something wonderful that proves me wrong. “I know you, string bean. You’ll do everything you can for me. You always have.”

He rolls me to my back with a nod, brushing my hair from my face. “I always will.”

Then he reaches for a condom. I press a hand to his chest. “You don’t need that. I’m on the pill.”

Hayes freezes. “Since when?”

I’ve shocked him. He thought he knew everything about me… “Since last month, when you surprised me with this trip.”

“Shortcake…” He swallows, drilling down into my eyes. “I’ve never not worn a condom with someone. I’ve been tested recently. I’m clean. But I’ll glove up if it will make you feel safer.”

Slowly, I shake my head. “I never want anything between us again.”

He lowers his hand. “Same. I want to be as close to you as I can.”

Then there’s nothing left to say until he settles his body over mine and kisses me with reverence. Before Hayes has even made love to me, I already know I’ll be his forever.

Our kiss lingers, deepens, turns more urgent. I grip his shoulders. He settles his hands on my hips. I spread my legs to him. He slides between them. I lift in welcome. He aligns the head of his hard shaft against me. I hold my breath.

Then he pauses, his exhalations against my mouth uneven and rapid. “Ready?”

“I have been for years.”

His face softens as he presses our foreheads together for a solemn moment, then looks at me again. “I love you.”


Tags: Shayla Black Romance