Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
I want to take her hand that’s fallen to the bed, the one that lies palm up instead of fisted at her chest. I don’t because I won’t pressure her. But I do add, “This is real for me, Poppy. I have a lot to be ashamed of. Being with you is one of the few things not on that list.” I suck in one more deep breath because even though I had no intention of laying out my feelings like this, there’s no point in stopping now. “I was going to say I gave you more of me than anyone else. Everyone else just took what they wanted.”
We’re stuck in a staring standoff—no smiles are exchanged, no words, not even a breath. And then she lunges for me, her mouth crashing into mine, her hands grabbing at my head, pulling my hair, then dropping to my shoulders as we fall back on the bed. I’m pinned to the bed with her on top. Her hands slide into mine, our fingers entwining.
With her legs straddling me, she lifts to look into my eyes. But horror fills them instead of pleasure. “Oh God.” She starts trying to free her fingers, but I don’t let her. “I just did what you said everyone else does. Takes. I was taking what I wanted—”
“No, you were accepting what I was willing to give.” Still locking her hands to mine, I say, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You can have all of me, Poppy. Take it because I’m no good without you.”
Her chest heaves above me, her thoughts spinning in her eyes as she searches mine. “You haven’t lied to me, right?”
I’m shaking my head before I even answer. “No. Never.” I tick through my confessions, moving the omissions to justifications because I’ve only ever done what’s right for her. “For me, this is real. I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”
Worry creases her brow, and she bites her lip while studying me. “It hasn’t even been forty-eight hours, and we’re making declarations?”
“Yes. I don’t need to protect myself from you. I know who you are. I know I can trust you.”
When she bends to kiss me this time, it’s slow and deliberate. “How can you say that when you barely know me?”
“Because I see the person you are. I know who you are on the inside.” I free her hands, having said all I can in hopes of her believing me, in hopes of her staying.
She caresses my face as her body rocks on top of me. “I trust you, Laird.” She stills only briefly. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“I swear to God, Poppy. I will never hurt you. I’ll never let you down, baby.”
And when I slide inside her, it’s not only sex we’re sharing. It’s love we’re making.
19
Poppy
My head doesn’t spin, and my thoughts aren’t cloudy. Quite the opposite. I feel more in touch with reality than I have in years. This is real. He is. And he’s right here worshipping me. Instead of ruining what we have, I lean into it and whisper, “God, that feels so good.”
He’s holding my legs wide open. The struggle not to clamp my thighs closed on him consumes me, and the pressure on my clit becomes too much to hold back. So I give in, falling into him, bucking into the darkness against the scruff and the ecstasy of his tongue. “Oh God,” I cry out, my back arching off the mattress before collapsing.
Laird didn’t win my heart with his words, though they made me swoon. How he made me feel that they were real and true had me falling for him.
At the height of unadulterated bliss, I discover who I am. His savior.
I lie there with my eyes closed, letting every tremble traverse its course until I’m left lifeless. Flopping my arms to the side, I grin when he kisses my lips like he does the ones up higher. A giggle escapes while still trying to catch my breath, and I say, “I think I died and went to heaven.” When I wait to see him, he smirks, then licks my star tattoo with a flattened tongue. I weave my fingers through his thick hair, loving how sexy he is when it’s all messed up. “I think you’re obsessed.”
“I am,” he says, kissing it before tracing it with his finger for the thousandth time.
I laugh, but secretly, I’m obsessed that he loves this connection with me. Raising a brow, I smirk. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but you do have one of your own.”
“Mine only matters because of yours.” He admires it again, making me jealous of my own body for stealing the attention, so I lie down. “It’s so fucking sexy on you.”
A shiver runs through me from the cold air. “Because we might be the only two people in the world with it?”