Page 182 of The Temporary Fiancée
Olivia’s face softens. “You could never lose me completely. You still owned my heart and consumed my thoughts, even when we were apart.”
I groan against her mouth and lift her shirt over her head, unable to hold back any longer. The need has been building too long. I can feel it in my hands as they shake against her ribs.
“I want you so bad, baby. I missed you so fucking much,” I murmur, my mouth finding the curve of her throat.
She trembles under me with a soft sound as my teeth catch at her pulse. Her hands slide up under my shirt and tug it free, then over my head, and I help her get it the rest of the way off.
I reach behind her to work her bra open. My fingers fumble at the hooks, and she laughs quietly at my impatience. I catch the sound against her mouth and answer it with another kiss, finallygetting the clasp loose. I slide the bra off her shoulders and toss it aside.
I work my belt and pants open while I keep kissing her. She helps me shove them down along with my boxers, her hands working faster than mine. I kick everything off the edge of the bed and reach for the sides of her panties next, peeling them down her legs in one motion.
For a long moment, I have to stop and just look at her. Bare and flushed beneath me, her hair tangled across the pillow. I almost lost this. I came so close to losing her.
“What?” she whispers, her brow furrowing.
“Nothing.” I lower myself back over her, settling between her thighs, my bare skin sliding against hers for the first time in way too long. “I just can’t believe you’re here.”
She breathes out and pulls me down for another kiss.
I reach between us and guide myself to her. When I start to push in, the slow stretch of her around me draws a low groan out of both of us. Her fingers dig into my shoulders. Her thighs lift to bracket my hips.
“Oh my god,” she breathes against my mouth.
“I know,” I groan, my forehead dropping to hers as I work my way in. When I’m fully seated, I stay there for a long moment. Her hands move to my face. Her breath is warm against my mouth.
It feels like coming home.
“I love you, Olivia.”
“I love you too.”
I start to move. Easy strokes at first, deep and unhurried. Her breath stutters against my lips with every drag of me inside her, and her hands slide down my back, her nails scoring my skin in a way that makes me bite down on a curse.
“You feel so good,” I groan. “So fucking good.”
“Don’t stop.”
I quicken the pace, my hips rocking harder into hers. Her thighs grip my waist, her heels pressing into the backs of my legs, pulling me deeper with every thrust.
She makes a desperate sound against my mouth, her voice catching when she begs me not to go anywhere.
“Never. I’m not letting you go again, baby. I promise.”
Her arms tighten around my shoulders. I shift my weight onto one forearm to free my other hand and slide it down between us, finding her clit with my thumb. She gasps sharply, her back arching off the bed.
“There. Right there, Reed.”
I keep my thumb working on her in slow circles in time with my thrusts. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are parted, her eyes slipping closed and opening again to find mine.
I shift back enough to bend her knees up so her thighs press closer to her chest, and the new angle has her crying out softly. The change lets me drive deeper. Her hands fly up above her head and fist in the sheets above the pillow.
“That’s it, baby. Just like that.”
Her eyes drift, then catch on something below her on the bed. She laughs softly, and her gaze comes back to mine, teasing through the haze.
“I love this blanket,” she says, her voice unsteady. “But your knitting really does need work.”
I let out a low laugh, even as I keep moving in her. “What’s wrong with my knitting?”
