She nodded, closing the distance and placing her hands on his chest, feeling the adrenaline roaring through him in the slight tremors beneath her fingers. “Bentley didn’t trust Jake, and that’s when I realized I could never trust him again. Maybe I never trusted him. Not because Jake isn’t a decent man. He is. But I couldn’t trust him because he doesn’t know me. And how can you trust someone who can’t really see you?”
“You can’t,” Shep agreed, finally sliding a hand across her cheek. “I think I’m going to have to spoil that horse now.”
She laughed softly, leaning into his touch, tears filling her eyes. “I think that was Bentley’s thank you for saving him.”
Shep smiled. “That’s a sweet sentiment.”
She drew in a long deep breath before addressing him again. “I loved my life in New York City, everything about it, really. Jake was a big part of that world, but then I came here, met you, and realized that sometimes it’s okay to have everything fall apart, because something new and incredible can be born from that mess.”
He nodded. “You’re not alone in that realization. I thought Dad’s business was over. I thought I’d lost you.” His cupped her face, his eyes searching hers intently. “And yet, you’re here.”
She ran her hands up his neck, bringing him closer. “I’m a better me with you.”
; He cupped her face, his voice blistering. “I’m a better me with you.” He hesitated, and in that hesitation, she heard things he didn’t need to say. The emotion raging in his eyes said so much. “And you know why, don’t you?”
“Because you’re the man meant to love me,” she rasped.
“That’s right, darlin’. I am.” His lips met hers then, and there was so much more between them now, causing the kiss to be hotter than any other kiss that came before. Slowly, his lips sped up, his tongue possessively owning her mouth, while he walked her backward until he had her pressed again the wall.
With a growl rumbling from deep in his chest, he grabbed both of her wrists, pinning them above her head with only one of his. When he leaned away, he stared at her with raw masculine desire and something so much more powerful. His free hand slid up her thigh, sneaking beneath her dress.
She gasped, yanked her hand out from his hold, and grabbed his wrist midway up her thigh. “Wait. We’re at Chase’s house.”
Eyes narrowed, he warned, “Let go of my hand, Emma.”
That tone . . . that look . . . Her pussy warmed, growing damp with need. Her heart raced and her chest rose and fell rapidly with the intensity washing over her. Intensity brought on by his possession. To be commanded by such a man burned feverish lust deep into her body, pooling wicked heat between her thighs.
She slowly released her fingers and raised her wrist back to join the other. He grabbed hold of her again, tighter now. She swallowed at the authority in his gaze, shivering under the power exuding from him.
He dragged his nose against hers and murmured, “Not another word from your mouth. Understand?”
Breathless, she nodded.
With his one hand, he opened his belt, then his jeans, sending them down to his knees, exposing his hard cock and resting himself against her stomach. Only then did he sneak his hand under her skirt again, sliding her panties to the side of her sex. He didn’t stroke her to warm her up, nor did he need to, she was more than ready for him. Her nipples were puckered, desperate for his mouth. Her pussy drenched to be taken by him, making her his.
She moaned when he roughly grabbed the front of her dress, yanking both the fabric and her bra down, exposing her taut nipples to him. With his free hand, he cupped her breast, taking her nipple into his mouth, sometimes nibbling, sometimes sucking, until she was moaning, gasping for more. Only then did he kick her legs open, sliding his cock in between her legs. His gaze positively glowed as he grabbed hold of his cock and entered her, right to the hilt. Keeping her hands pinned above her, he thrust his hips, sliding his cock within her in short, quick thrusts. She moaned against how he stretched her, hitting the perfect spot over and over again. He growled when she grew wetter, needing more of him.
“Goddammit, you feel so damn good.” He grabbed her leg then, bringing it around his waist, and released her arms.
She gripped his shoulders, wanting to reply, but the words became caught within the pleasure, and all she could do was moan and moan, louder and louder until she couldn’t stop moaning. Cupping her nape, he pumped his hips, hard and fast. This wasn’t about pleasure. This was about claiming her. He had almost lost her to another man; that would never happen again. She felt all of that in his primal touches. And she melted beneath that claim, until her screams spoke of her rising pleasure.
Driven by the same need to get closer, to feel more, he hooked her leg on his one arm and slammed her back against the wall, sending the painting crashing to the ground. His kiss was brutal, punishing in its force, until he began pumping his hips hard, each time smacking his pelvis against her oversensitive clit. He fisted his hand into her hair, demanding she look at him.
She became lost in all the things his expression told her. Captivated by the moment, and all the things warming her heart, she shouted, “I love you.”
He froze, cupping her face. “You love me?”
She gasped, breathless, tears filling her eyes, still so very much in the moment. Feeling everything, thinking of nothing but how they fit together so perfectly. “I know it’s crazy and so fast, but I do. You’re kind, and strong, and so damn good. I love you.”
The side of his mouth arched, and he shifted his hips slowly, dragging his cock through her sensually, perfectly creating pleasure. “Ah, darlin, I love you too.” Back was his intense gaze, and maybe something even a little more wicked. “Do you know what I also love?” he asked.
“What?” she gasped, struggling in desperation for more.
“Making this sweet pussy come,” he murmured.
With a growl, he unleashed himself completely, and she screamed against the pleasure. Each thrust growing harder than the one before it, more frenzied, even. She stared into the love, the passion, the freedom he gave her, until she couldn’t look at him anymore because he was grunting, pumping his hips hard and fast, and she was coming so hard, there was no him and her, only the acknowledgment that sometimes fate got things wrong . . . until this time.