I nearly slump to the ground with relief. “You did?”
“Yeah.”
Oh shit, I can’t breathe. I’m having a heart attack. “You’re....oh fuck....you're not getting married anymore?”
“No.”
“Why? Why did you do it?” I ask, needing to hear it. After everything that happened, I need to know.
“For you,” he whispers, those dark eyes meeting mine. “I can’t live without you, it seems.”
I reach for him, pulling him into my chest, and he crushes himself into me, his face pressed against my cheek. And I bury my face into his neck and inhale.
Still smells so damn good.
“I should think about this. After you lied to me and put me through hell,” I mutter, my lips skimming his skin. He tastes just like I remember.
“You should,” he says with a broken huff. “Take all the time you need. I’ll…I’ll wait for you.”
We stand there, wrapped around each other, and then I press a soft kiss to his neck.
“Fuck this. Fuck waiting. I’ve been miserable for weeks. Take me home,” I say.
Whit shakes his head. “You should take all the time you need….”
“Shut up, Whit,” I grumble. “Shut it. If you don’t take me home and fuck me, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you home. Then I will be the one tying you to the bed.”
Whit swallows roughly and links his fingers through mine, tugging me forward.
“You sure?” he asks as he drags me along.
“A thousand percent.”
When we arrive at the apartment, we crash through it, all limbs and tongues and teeth as we fight to consume one another. It’s been so long. He tastes so good. Feels just right.
“Now, need you now,” I say, stripping off my clothes and stumbling into the bedroom.
And then we’re naked, grinding against each other, hands everywhere, mapping out our bodies, feeling where one ends, and the other begins.
“Hurry,” I plead, and Whit pushes me down onto the mattress.
I hold onto my thighs, exposing myself to him. Then his fingers are inside of me, pushing, crooking, fucking me until I’m nearly coming from the feel of it.
“Been so long, baby,” I say, and he pulls out of me and then pauses. His eyes hooded, flashing.
“Do I need a condom?” he asks softly.
And I nearly laugh because fuck this. Like I’d let another man fuck me.
“I haven’t been with anyone but you.”
He inhales deeply and then says, “Same.”
Then he’s over me, his hands by my head, his hips pushing forward, and I take all of him in one swift push.
The two of us groan at the feeling. He stretches me so wide, and I accept all of him.
And then he’s kissing me, our tongues tangling as he tunnels in and out of me.