“You just rest, beauty,” I say, kissing the small of her wrist, keeping my lips there until her pulse stops rollicking. “Nothing is happening tonight. I’m right here. I’m standing guard while you get the sleep you need.”
Her brow wrinkles with concern. “What about the sleep you need?”
“Gracie, you came back to me,” I manage, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I can run at least another few years on that alone.”
I’m about to pull back when she turns her head, bringing her mouth flush with mine. “We could both get some sleep. Together.” Her tongue skates along the seam of my mouth, sending every ounce of blood in my body rushing south. “There’s enough room in this bed for both of us. If we cram in really tight.”
A hoarse sound scrapes out of me. “No. No, baby. You got hit in the head tonight. I’m not making love to you. I can’t. What if I hurt you or made it worse?”
“I’m fine. They’re only keeping me as a formality.” She drags a knuckle down the front of my chest, stopping just above my bulging erection, then slowly tracing the thick line of it, rubbing side to side when she reaches the head, saying in a whisper, “I can tell you missed me.”
“Missed you?” My laugh is broken, humorless, pained. “My world went black.”
“Mine too,” she says haltingly.
She peels back the covers and my eyes trail down the hospital gown to where it has bunched up around her hips, exposing her sheer white panties. Her eyes are innocent and imploring and I’m fucking toast. “Let’s not miss each other anymore.”
There’s a permanent notch in my throat as I slide into the bed with her, her cherry cola scent dragging me closer until we’re face to face on our sides. She wiggles the remaining distance, pressing the fronts of our thighs together, her tits chafing my pecs. Immediately we’re breathing hard, our mouths seeking the home they’ve been deprived of for five days. I catch her hip in my hand and tug her lap tight to mine, desperate to lose myself in her soft femininity, desperate to be healed. Panting for it. And finally, finally, our lips reunite.
We’ve barely started and we’re already overcome. One swipe of my tongue into her sweet mouth and she whimpers, trembling, the weight of what we’ve been through obviously catching up with her. So I wrap my arm around her as tight as I can, drawing her hard and tight to my body, urging her upper thigh around my hip, and I kiss her in the name of comfort and relief and our undefeatable love.
“It’s okay, beauty. It’s okay.” The perfect taste of her makes me lightheaded. “I’ve got you. North’s got you now.”
“Promise we’ll never be apart again.”
“I promise. I swear to God.”
Our kiss is fervent and cherishing, our hands roaming everywhere. I learned early that Grace has a serious appreciation for my body and she shows it now, dragging up the hospital shirt and scrubbing her palms up and down my muscle, occasionally trailing her fingertips down to the waistband of my shorts, lower, teasing my dick with light strokes.
Jesus, it’s a challenge—it’s always one—not to try and eat her whole. Possessiveness and obsession and this incessant craving for Grace are a constant monkey on my back. They make everything urgent. Fuck her now. Fuck her hard. But even though I’m more eager than ever to get inside of my girl, I force myself to maintain control. She’s worth every ounce of it. She’s my very own gift from God and I’m not going to be selfish with her.
That being said, my Gracie is a horny little thing.
Everything she does is designed to snap my restraint.
Every whimper, every writhe of her pussy against my erection, every brush of her fingertips over my nipples, down my happy trail. Every meeting of our frantic mouths.
And when she pulls down her own panties, kicking them off somewhere into the hospital bed, her tongue skating along my lower lip, enticing me, I begin to lose the battle to wait. “I need inside, Gracie, baby. Need to get up inside all that softness.”
Already shoving down the waistband of my shorts, I start to roll her over, onto her back.
But she slows my actions with a hand to my chest.
“Can I ride you?” Her breath pelts my mouth. “I want to work for your come.”
My groan is broken, strangled, my hunger so intense, I have to concentrate on not ejaculating right then and there. And then, Jesus, she’s pushing at my shoulder, begging me to lie on my back, as if I would deny her fucking anything. Anything I have the power to give her from now until the end of time is hers. Especially this cock. It’s stiff and pulsing with pain and it’s all hers. She knows it, too, her hand finding me, pulling on me lovingly, jacking me, the movements causing my balls to slap lightly against my inner thighs.