Your Forever Love (The Bennett Family 3)

Eric slides my dress up to my waist and strokes his finger over my thong. I shudder. With this one single touch, he sets every nerve ending in my body on fire. My nipples throb, rubbing against the dress with every small move I make. They are so sensitive that even the sheer silk is too rough for them. Yet somehow, I think Eric’s tongue—or even his teeth—would not feel rough at all. He pushes his hips against me, letting me know he’s hard and ready for me.

I undo the buttons of his shirt, taking it off him, then proceed to rid him of his pants and boxers, freeing his glorious erection. I swipe my tongue over the tip exactly once before pulling away.

Eric sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re a bad girl.”

“Very bad,” I agree with him. He removes my sweater in one swift move, then hooks his thumbs in the top of my dress, pulling it down. The dress gathers at my waist, leaving my breasts exposed. Eric glances down at them, rubbing one nipple between his fingers, while slicking the fingers of his other hand over my sex. A bolt of heat sears through me.

“I don’t want to let you go, Pippa. For once, I wish I could be selfish and choose my own happiness. I would choose to stay here with you.”

I swallow a sob, fighting the sudden burning sensation behind my eyelids. How can a few words cause me so much happiness and ache at the same time? I will not cry. I will not cry. Watching the pain in his eyes, I realize I have to be strong for both of us right now.

“Let’s not think about that.” I kiss the corner of his lips. Unable to help myself, I add, “You’re the most selfless person I know, and I love you for it.”

Without a word, Eric hoists me in his arms, and I wrap my legs around him. He takes us to the bedroom, where it’s pitch dark, but I don‘t worry. I’d let this man take me blindly anywhere; that’s how much I trust him. And I never thought I’d trust a man again.

He lays me on the bed, climbing on top of me. “I love you so much it fucking hurts,” he whispers in the darkness. His words accelerate my heartbeat and stop my breath.

“That makes two of us,” I whisper back. Next, his mouth is on mine, and we say no more. Instead, we pour all of our unspoken words into kisses and caresses. Gentle at first, then passionate.

Eric enters me in one swift move, and he stills inside me.

“Oh, fuck. This feels too good.” He all but grunts out the words. Interlacing his fingers with mine, he rests his head in the crook of my neck. For long moments, we stay like that, listening to each other’s breaths, feeling the other’s heartbeat, connecting on a level I never thought possible. When he finally starts moving, he does so with long, deep thrusts, his mouth on mine the entire time. He murmurs my name between kisses, caressing my face, my neck. I run my fingers on the expanse of his back, wanting to remember every inch of his skin, and the way his muscles tense when he makes love to me.

Pushing him gently away from me, I bring my hands to his chest, continuing my journey of memorizing his body.

His precise, devastating thrusts spur a hunger deep inside me, which spreads all the way to my fingertips, until it becomes all-consuming. My hips buck off the bed, desperate for more. Eric intensifies the rhythm, his thrusts growing ferocious as he exhales fiery breaths.

My pulse ratchets up as a small quiver builds in my center, then spreads through my entire body. Abandoning all pretense of gentleness, Eric grabs my ass with his hands, digging his nails into my skin. I revel in the pleasure the pinching sensation brings. He buries his face in my neck, his chest pressing against my breasts as he drives inside me like a man possessed. I push my hips, joining him in his rhythm, needing my climax, yet at the same time not wanting this to end. Desperation shadows our desire, but we quench it with kisses, groans, and a frantic search for our release. Eric widens inside me and groans out my name at the same time my orgasm ripples through me, and it’s bittersweet.

Taking deep, ragged breaths, we lie tangled in each other’s arms for a long time, neither of us wanting to let go.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Eric

My last week in San Francisco starts with

a boom. I have a meeting with my team first thing in the morning, going through the agenda for the week. Marcus, one of the initial employees, will be the head of the team after I leave. I will be monitoring the growth here from Boston, but I will be less involved. I’ll miss this. It was a tough two and a half months, but I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. There is something to be said about growing a company yourself over inheriting a fully formed organization. When my father stepped back from his job as CEO and I took over, Callahan’s Finest was already working like a well-oiled machine. Here I had to roll up my sleeves and do the dirty work myself. I loved every minute of it. Marcus still has a lot of work ahead of him, and I envy the bastard.

“Great job, everyone,” I say as the meeting ends.

“We’ll miss you, boss,” my secretary says. I raise an eyebrow, preparing a sardonic remark, but then I realize she means it. Okay, so Pippa’s advice to stop being an ass had more merit than I anticipated. I’m barely back in my office when my phone starts ringing. Looking down at the phone, I see it’s Mom.

“Hi, Mom.”

“How are you, Eric?”

“Busy. Trying to wrap everything up.”

“So, your return to Boston is going according to schedule?”

“Yes.” I flip through a report on my desk, making mental notes of everything I have to do the moment I finish talking to Mom.

“I raised you better than this.”

“What?”

“I do speak to my granddaughter, you know. She tells me what’s going on in her life. Your life.”