Page 77 of Love Bound

Good girl.

After slipping the key in the lock, I bound up the stairs two at a time, ready to take her into my arms.

But Claire is asleep on the sofa, stretched out—a pillow under her head, a blanket over her shoulders, the fire blue hot in the stove. I sit down on the floor to study her face, trying to memorize every line, every freckle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks a lot better, and most of the swelling is gone. It's so damn hot in the room her skin looks dewy.

She stirs, her eyelids fluttering open. She smiles and reaches to touch my face.

Careful not to press on her upper lip, I barely touch hers with mine, but they are still hot, and perspiration makes little curls tighten along her forehead and behind her neck.

"Let's get you to bed," I say, but she shakes her head and takes my hand, sliding it under the blanket and then under her T-shirt.

I kneel next to her. Her skin is hot, sticky, and her stomach quivers as she leaves my hand on her taut belly. I feel the top of her satin underwear and nothing else. Sliding my hand down under her panties, I touch the lips of her sex and she moans softly, her hips tilt forward, inviting more.

Instead, I begin sliding my hand up her stomach, to her sternum, and then gently to one breast. Then the other, and I feel her nipples tighten into hard buds. I roll one between my fingers, gently. Her back arches in response, a sigh escaping between those pink lips I just kissed. Dipping my head into her neck, I kiss her there and her smell—all vanilla and almonds, soap and sea—is intoxicating.

After I slide my left arm under her back, I lift her chest slightly, her nipples hard under her T-shirt. With my other hand, I dive deep under those panties.

She struggles, weak and groggy with sleep, her head thrown back and all I want is to make her come and come again and again. To make her enjoy something she can't control in the moment.

Herself.

"I love you, Claire," comes deep from my chest and she opens heavy-lidded eyes to meet mine. Her body is so warm and her sex, so wet. I slide two fingers into her and feel her velvety smoothness quiver and grip.

Her moan is louder, stronger, and I cover her mouth with mine while working my fingers up to her soft spot, that small place behind the pelvis. She comes fast, hard, moving against me, and I hold her with my other arm, watching her face in ecstasy.

She is luminous.

Shuddering, she lies still, breathing hard, her eyes closed. Then she turns to me again, to taste me. She lies like this in a stupor for a while and then twists and tries to reach for me again.

"Not yet," I say, rolling her onto her back again. My thumb presses down against her clit, beginning a slow delicious turn.

She flinches and cries out, "Finn!" Then she arches her back, sucks in air like she's drowning.

I hold on to her, one arm bent around her in an embrace, the other massaging her to a second orgasm. Stirring, half asleep, half drugged with love, she's powerless to stop me.

Trying to fling the blanket off is all she can do, and then she turns sideways, finds my face with her hands, and begins a kiss that finds a thick root in my crotch.

By now I’m so hard I think I might break. "Can I get on top of you?" I pull a condom from my back pocket.

She nods, peering at me from between thick eyelids.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"Yes. Oh yes, Finn," she says.

I stand, stripping off everything before I’m naked in front of her in the firelight.

Her "Jesus, you're gorgeous. What did I do to deserve you?" comes all breathy and with the choppy, hiccupy meter of delirium. Curling her arms above her head, she grips the armrest.

I swing one leg over and shove my knee into the back of the cushions, my other foot on the floor, my hands on either side of her shoulders. I pull her shirt up, exposing her breasts. Dipping down to kiss her again, my chest just grazes hers and her nipples rise in the light from the fire. Her skin is so smooth, flawless, and every time she shudders, my penis throbs for release.

Slowly, careful not to put too much weight on her, I feel her mound with my penis, and I open her up with my tip.

Her mouth makes a small O and she tosses her head to one side, her elbows catching shadows.

Shifting slightly, I move an arm across and grasp both her wrists in my hand. She has to trust me, has to let go completely now. Most of my weight is on my legs and I gaze down at her body in the orange light.

Still, she doesn’t care.