Forever (Betrothed 7)

Twenty-Seven

Damien

She opened the last box and gathered the clothes still hung up on hangers. She lifted them and carried them into the closet, taking the entire left wall, the place where I used to hang my t-shirts and jeans.

Now it was hers.

The box was empty, and she placed it in the corner so Patricia could recycle it later. “That’s it. That’s all my stuff.”

I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “Looks good in here.”

Her hands grabbed my forearms. “I think so too.” She slowly turned around and came face-to-face with me, deep affection in her eyes. “No going back now. You have a roommate.”

“A hot roommate.”

She grinned.

“Who’s really good at sex.”

Her cheeks started to blush.

“And even better at sucking my dick.”

Now she slapped me with her hands. “Oh my god, shut up.”

I wrapped my arms around her again and hugged her. “Come on, it’s a compliment.”

“I hope there are other reasons you like living with me.”

I shrugged. “You have a nice body?”

She pushed me off again.

“Baby, I’m kidding.” I pulled her back to me and buried my face in her hair, kissing her neck and the shell of her ear. “I want to live with you because you’re the woman I’m madly in love with. You’re my best friend.” I turned her around and pressed my nose against hers. “Is that better?”

Her eyes looked like melted butter, so her answer was obvious. She grabbed the front of my t-shirt and pulled me close so she could kiss me, a deep and sultry embrace that showed how much she wanted me. She hated it when I teased her, but then she was all over me a couple seconds later.

I walked her backward out of the closet into our bedroom while getting her jeans undone. We’d packed up everything from her old apartment and brought it here. A lot of her extra things were in a guest bedroom because we don’t know where to put them just yet. But I didn’t tell her to throw anything away, because her stuff was my stuff. I pushed her jeans over her ass then got her panties off too. My hands gripped both of her cheeks, like I was squeezing a juicy nectarine. Then I got her top off, her bra falling to the floor along with the rest of her clothes.

When she was naked, she practically ripped my clothes off. She always wanted to me, anytime, any part of the day, even in the middle of the night, and she did everything with such urgency that it was sexy. She threw my clothes on the floor with hers and backed up onto the bed.

With her ass hanging over the edge, she grabbed my thighs and pulled me close to her.

My hands moved underneath her knees, and I positioned her beneath me, loving this angle of her tits. I grabbed her hips and pulled her down to me so I could slide inside her smoothly.

She moaned like she’d never taken such a good dick. Her head rolled back, and she dug her nails into my skin as her back arched. She released another moan, a louder one, and I hadn’t even moved yet.

“Best roommate ever.” I leaned over her and looked down to see a slightly amused expression in her gaze. She tried to suppress a smile, but it was obvious I got under her skin.

Her hands went to my chest, and she started to rock her hips against me, taking my dick over and over. “Make love to me, Damien.”

My hips started to move automatically, and I lowered myself until my face was close to hers. I didn’t kiss her, but I breathed with her, moved with her. My hand gripped the back of her neck and held her in place so I could rock into her easier. “Yes.”

She looked into my eyes while barely blinking, connecting her soul to mine as well as her body. She wore her heart on her sleeve, showed me how much she loved me every time she made love to me. It wasn’t just her enthusiasm, but the brightness in her eyes, the way her nails dug deep into my skin. “I love you.”

I rocked into her harder because those words invigorated me, made me fall deeper into this woman. “I love you too…”

Annabella had lived with me for two weeks, and those two weeks had given me more joy than any other time of my life. The gypsy had never said Annabella was my soulmate, but maybe she was. Maybe the gypsy simply didn’t mention it. Because I couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone the way I loved her.

Liam never showed his face again, and I actually believed he would keep his word. He owed me his life. I easily could’ve killed him and not felt any guilt about it. The least he could do was bow out permanently.