Page 146 of Dream House
I open my eyes and find Lark breathing like a man who’s just felled a tree. Deep, slow lungfuls that make his chest rise and fall beneath me. The motion is a gentle wave I feel everywhere.
I lay my splayed hands onto his chest. Our eyes lock, and neither of us looks away.
It’s intimate.
The thought sends a thrill of something both frightening and oh-so-powerful through my body. And I clench.
“Jesus, Stella—”Lark hisses. His eyes squeeze shut for just an instant before he opens them again, the look in them molten. Desperate. And adoring.
And I melt completely.
Any defense I ever built—for him or any other man—turns to sand and washes clean away with that look in his eyes.
I have never in my life felt the way I feel now.
Is this love?
Holy shit. I think this is love.
His mouth quirks in the most arresting, sweet smile, and his right hand leaves my thigh. He reaches up and cups my cheek.
“You okay, baby?”
I don’t trust myself to speak. This is love. I know because I’d do damn near anything to protect it.
And I’ve only felt something this big one other time. When the labor and delivery nurse put Maisy in my arms, and I put my heart in hers.
It was scary then to know that someone outside of myself held such a vital part of me. But she was just a baby. What harm could she do? How could she hurt me so long as I protected her? Even now, if she tries to run away from me, I can still catch her.
My gaze sweeps over the man beneath me. He is almost twice my size. If he bolts, he’ll leave me in the dust.
And that’s just the way it is. Because, as I look down at him, feeling the patient sweep of his thumb over my cheek and the ready tears stinging my throat, I know I have just as much choice in loving him as I did in falling headlong for my daughter.
No choice at all.
He’s still smiling, but concern knits his brows. “Stella?”
I swallow hard and cover his hand at my cheek. “Fine,” I rasp. “Just enjoying the view.” It isn’t a complete lie. It’s also so far from the whole truth that it feels like deception.
His proud grin vanquishes the look of concern, and I laugh in spite of myself. It’s a wet laugh, one that has me blinking rapidly. I drop onto his chest and bury my face in his neck so I don’t get caught, and when his arms wrap around me, holding me so tightly, so completely, it’s everything I can do not to give in.
And cry with joy. Cry with sorrow.
Because, for better or worse, my heart is no longer my own.
Lark’s chuckle tickles my hair and his rough palms caress my back. I wrap my arms around him and hug him so tight, wishing this moment could last forever.
And then I feel it. His cock pulses once inside me.
I suck in my breath.
Holy Mother of God.
“Jesus, Stella,”he moans again. He sounds aroused and almost accusing.
“What?”
“You’re gonna kill me.”
