Until We Fly (Beautifully Broken 4)

I twist the sheets in my hand, moaning his name as he strokes me.

Make me good, Brand.

He kisses my neck, my lips, my cheeks, before he rests his forehead against mine and as he stares into my eyes, he enters my body, slowly, smoothly, deeply.

With purpose.

I suck in my breath and then breathe with him, in slow pants as he slides in and out, over and over.

“I want to see you,” he rasps against my neck. And then he pulls out, and flips me on top of him, his hands grasping my breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh.

“That’s better,” he sighs. Sliding his hands along my hips, he worships them. Then he spends his attention on my breasts and leaning up, he suckles them, laving them with his tongue, rolling my nipples between his teeth. All the while, I’m rocking on his hardness, sliding him in and out, enjoying the wet warmth, the hardened rigidity.

Fill me up, Brand.

He slides in and out, fast then faster and finally, I throw my head back and arch on top of him, shattered from the orgasm. I shake and shake with it, my muscles contracting around him.

He smiles.

“My turn.”

He begins moving inside of me again, but then pulls out, and flips me over one more time, this time, I’m face-down on the bed as he fucks me from behind. He pulls me up toward him with his hands and then reaches around and strokes me while he fucks me.

I come again, before he finally groans with his own release.

I collapse onto the bed, limp and satisfied and sad.

This is all I have. I have to memorize it. I have to memorize him, his face, his smell, his hands.

I pick up one of his hands and trace his fingers as he pulls me onto his chest with his other arm.

The silence between us is huge and loaded and important. I don’t know why. Then I realize… as he looks at me, the expression in his eyes is different.

Because he loves me.

I don’t know how I know, but I know.

I nuzzle into him, my face in his neck, trying to spread that warm, soft, good feeling all over my body.

“I’m so tired,” I tell him, hoping that he won’t actually say the words. I can’t hear the words. Not if I have to leave him. It’d be impossible. Excruciating.

Please don’t.

He chuckles instead and the moment is broken. “I wore you out. Take a nap and we’ll do it again.”

But he’s the one who falls asleep.

I watch him, as he breathes in and out. As his arms still encircle me, as he still protects me even while he sleeps.

My heart twinges, my gut tightens.

I glance at the clock.

Eleven pm.

We’ve spent hours in this bedroom, making love over and over. Because that’s how I wanted to spend my last hours with him. It will be these memories that I exist on from this day forward.

But the clock is ticking and I have one hour. I have no doubt that William probably has someone watching the house, just to make sure I hold up my end of the bargain.