Page 44
Story: When Hearts Remember
Invading, he conquers my nonexistentdefenses.
A groan rumbles from his throat when I melt against him, plastering my curves against his hard muscles. His free hand coils around my waist before he pushes my body flat against the shelves.
“Fuck,” he whispers when we part for air, but before I can respond, he dives back in, his arms caging me as he ravages me.
I moan, the sound needy, but I don’t care. My head arches back, digging into the tomes of love stories, as he slides his tongue into my mouth and tastes me like I’m his salvation, like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life.
My fingers dig into his muscular back, my nails no doubt causing pain, but that only seems to inflame him more. He slides his thigh between my legs and presses up so his muscles rub against my core.
“Sweet. You taste so sweet, just like I knew you’d be,” he rasps, his lips traveling to my cheeks, kissing, sucking, whispering poetry to my skin. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this kiss, Nova? How many nights I’ve lain awake in bed, wanting to hold you in my arms, but I can’t?”
“Me too,” I whisper, my eyes meeting his in the dark, only seeing the glint in what I know are the most beautiful charcoal eyes.
His breathing is ragged as he pulls back slightly, like he wants to take me in, to memorize every inch of me.
A faint smile curves on his lips and he whispers, “Nova. Because you’re a supernova. Rare. Beautiful. Unforgettable.”
My breath hitches.Unforgettable.I want to bask in his attentions forever.
He drags a fingertip down the bridge of my nose, featherlight, leaving a trail of warmth behind.
It’s love and reverence encapsulated in a small caress.
Leaning in, he holds me tightly in his arms. I feel his fluttering heartbeats beating against his thin shirt and the unmistakable hardness resting against my stomach.
Knowing he’s turned on has me clenching my legs, the motion he feels because his thigh is still sandwiched between mine.
Delaney’s breath quickens, and the tension thickens in the small sliver of space between us. My skin is so sensitive, I can practically feel the individual fibers of the cotton shirt I have on. My breasts are heavy…swollen, and he hasn’t even touched me there.
I light up in his presence.
“Before I fall asleep at night, I think of you. I imagine you next to me.” He punctuates his words with a soft kiss on my forehead. “But I don’t know what you look like.” A kiss on my cheek. “I don’t know the color of your eyes, the smell of your hair, the softness of your skin. It’s been driving me out of my mind.” He swipes his tongue on my earlobe. I whimper, and wetness seeps out between my legs.
I’m dying from his gentle touches and words.
“But I knew you’d be beautiful. And I don’t just mean physically, though you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve seen. I mean here.” He presses his hand over my frantic heart. “Because I’d already fallen for what was inside you.”
Delaney cups my face, which I realize is wet with tears. His thumbs gently swipe the moisture away. I’ve never had anyone treat me this way before—holding me like I’m precious, priceless, like I’m everything he needs in the world.
He rasps, “The last year and a half was torture. And I’d live through it again and again, if it meant I get to be trapped in this storm with you.”
My poet. My keeper.
“Delaney.”
I touch his face, the dim light guiding me, feeling the fullness of his brows, the crinkle at the edge of his eyes, the tall and straight nose, the perfect full lips, and the small divot on his chin.
“And to finally answer your question,” he rasps, “if a rock smacked you on the head and you lost your memories, I’d do everything in my power to make you remember. Even if that meant recreating our love story, reminding you with every touch, every word. Because there’d be no way I’d let you slip away. No way.”
When I asked the what-if question back then, it was meant as a joke. To bring a smile to his face when he was stressed at work. But now, it’s so much more.
It feels like a vow.
I swallow and whisper, “That answer is definitely worth waiting for.”
He grins and cups my cheek.
Before I met him, I thought he’d be disappointed when he saw me. Maybe he’d think the idea of me was unforgettable, but the reality fell short.
A groan rumbles from his throat when I melt against him, plastering my curves against his hard muscles. His free hand coils around my waist before he pushes my body flat against the shelves.
“Fuck,” he whispers when we part for air, but before I can respond, he dives back in, his arms caging me as he ravages me.
I moan, the sound needy, but I don’t care. My head arches back, digging into the tomes of love stories, as he slides his tongue into my mouth and tastes me like I’m his salvation, like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life.
My fingers dig into his muscular back, my nails no doubt causing pain, but that only seems to inflame him more. He slides his thigh between my legs and presses up so his muscles rub against my core.
“Sweet. You taste so sweet, just like I knew you’d be,” he rasps, his lips traveling to my cheeks, kissing, sucking, whispering poetry to my skin. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this kiss, Nova? How many nights I’ve lain awake in bed, wanting to hold you in my arms, but I can’t?”
“Me too,” I whisper, my eyes meeting his in the dark, only seeing the glint in what I know are the most beautiful charcoal eyes.
His breathing is ragged as he pulls back slightly, like he wants to take me in, to memorize every inch of me.
A faint smile curves on his lips and he whispers, “Nova. Because you’re a supernova. Rare. Beautiful. Unforgettable.”
My breath hitches.Unforgettable.I want to bask in his attentions forever.
He drags a fingertip down the bridge of my nose, featherlight, leaving a trail of warmth behind.
It’s love and reverence encapsulated in a small caress.
Leaning in, he holds me tightly in his arms. I feel his fluttering heartbeats beating against his thin shirt and the unmistakable hardness resting against my stomach.
Knowing he’s turned on has me clenching my legs, the motion he feels because his thigh is still sandwiched between mine.
Delaney’s breath quickens, and the tension thickens in the small sliver of space between us. My skin is so sensitive, I can practically feel the individual fibers of the cotton shirt I have on. My breasts are heavy…swollen, and he hasn’t even touched me there.
I light up in his presence.
“Before I fall asleep at night, I think of you. I imagine you next to me.” He punctuates his words with a soft kiss on my forehead. “But I don’t know what you look like.” A kiss on my cheek. “I don’t know the color of your eyes, the smell of your hair, the softness of your skin. It’s been driving me out of my mind.” He swipes his tongue on my earlobe. I whimper, and wetness seeps out between my legs.
I’m dying from his gentle touches and words.
“But I knew you’d be beautiful. And I don’t just mean physically, though you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve seen. I mean here.” He presses his hand over my frantic heart. “Because I’d already fallen for what was inside you.”
Delaney cups my face, which I realize is wet with tears. His thumbs gently swipe the moisture away. I’ve never had anyone treat me this way before—holding me like I’m precious, priceless, like I’m everything he needs in the world.
He rasps, “The last year and a half was torture. And I’d live through it again and again, if it meant I get to be trapped in this storm with you.”
My poet. My keeper.
“Delaney.”
I touch his face, the dim light guiding me, feeling the fullness of his brows, the crinkle at the edge of his eyes, the tall and straight nose, the perfect full lips, and the small divot on his chin.
“And to finally answer your question,” he rasps, “if a rock smacked you on the head and you lost your memories, I’d do everything in my power to make you remember. Even if that meant recreating our love story, reminding you with every touch, every word. Because there’d be no way I’d let you slip away. No way.”
When I asked the what-if question back then, it was meant as a joke. To bring a smile to his face when he was stressed at work. But now, it’s so much more.
It feels like a vow.
I swallow and whisper, “That answer is definitely worth waiting for.”
He grins and cups my cheek.
Before I met him, I thought he’d be disappointed when he saw me. Maybe he’d think the idea of me was unforgettable, but the reality fell short.
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