Broken Love Story (Love 3)

I walk to her now, holding her face in my hands while she looks up at me with a smile and her face stained with tears. “I want to carry you to my bed and make love to you,” I tell her, kissing the one tear that is running down her face. “I want to cherish every single minute we have.” I kiss her other side. “I want to go to bed with you in my arms and wake up with you in the morning.” I kiss the side of her lips. “I want to fight with you.” I kiss the other side. “I want to make up with you.” I kiss the other side of her lips. “I want to make breakfast with you.” I kiss her lips softly. “Kiss the girls goodbye with you and then at night hold your hand while we watch television.” I kiss her again, her hands gripping my shirt on my sides. “I love you, Samantha.” I kiss her, this time my tongue licking her lips, and then her tongue is touching mine. Her hands move from my sides to my hands on her face, then they go to my neck as she pushes herself into me.

“I swore I would never love again,” she says when our lips separate. “I know it’s cliché to never say never, but I was so sure I would never want another man again. Not after everything I went through.” She shrugs her shoulders. “But then something shifted in me, like the whole universe was pushing me in this one direction, and that direction was you.” She looks down. “I reread all our text messages we’ve ever sent. At night if you didn’t call me, or in the morning after I put the kids on the bus. You were my lifeline, and you didn’t even know,” she whispers, “and then you took the broken in me and mended me.” She kisses me now. “My lifeline became my salvation.” She kisses me. “And my salvation became love.” She leans her forehead against my chest and then looks up again. “You, Blake Williams, are what fairy tales are made of.”

I lean down to kiss her, the softness still there, but the need more. I pick her up, and this time, she wraps her legs around my waist. Her hands wrap around my neck as I carry her to my bed. I place her down in front of the bed. My hand goes to her neck, her hand goes to the hem of my t-shirt. Lifting it up, she slowly inches it up, her hands on me, her soft touch giving me goose bumps. I watch her hand pull up my shirt until she pulls it over my head. Her fingers tracing down my chest.

My hands go to her button-down shirt now. One button at a time, her eyes are focused on my fingers till I get to the last one. I push the shirt off her shoulders and take a breath because she’s so perfect. I lean down, softly kissing all along her shoulder as her fingers rake through my hair.

I kiss her neck, my tongue now coming out to taste her. She moans and gives me more access to her, soft kisses savoring her till I nip her ear, my hands grasping her hips. Her hand leaves, going to my shoulder, down my arm, till she hits my waist. She moves her hand along my waist to the front, unsnapping the button. My hand holds her neck as I look down at her fingers working my zipper down. My chest rising and falling, my heart beats faster than before. Her hand slides inside the front of my jeans, cupping me. I hiss out at her touch while my hips thrust forward on their own.

My lips find hers as our tongues meet. When our mouths meet, our hands and fingers take in each other. One hand cups her breast while the other unsnaps the button to her jeans, and her tongue gets more aggressive once I pull the zipper down. I don’t leave her mouth while my hand turns and slides down her stomach, slowly sliding into her panties. My finger slips down, hitting her wetness, and my finger finds her clit. Her hips buck as she gasps and leaves my lips. “Oh my God,” she says as my finger enters her. My hand is constricted by her pants, but I get in there enough to move in and out, slowly. Her hips moving into my hand each time. She doesn’t just take me; she helps me.

“I need …” she whispers.

“What?” I ask her, kissing her neck, sucking it in. “What do you need?”

“I need you naked,” she says while her hand slips into my boxers, her skin on mine as she wraps her hand around my cock. “I need to feel you on me,” she says while she slowly thrusts her hips at my hand, mimicking the moves on me with her hand. “I…” She stops talking, and I feel she’s close because I can barely move my finger now. I close my eyes, trying not to come too soon, but it may be a losing battle. “I just want you,” she says, her voice tapering off when she comes on my finger, her hands stop moving as she rides out her orgasm on my finger.