Page 106 of A Love That Saved Us
His mouth skims along my jaw, then lower, his breath warm against my skin. The tip of his tongue traces a path to my clavicle, and a flash of heat races down my spine, settling in my core as desire pools between my thighs.
Dammit, Jensen.I’ve made it way too easy for him. I don’t know how. But the way he so easily turns me on—the way he loves me so hard—I’d do anything to feel him like this.
“Are you hungry?” His deep voice sends a shiver up my neck.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He chuckles, low and wicked in my ear. “You want me to start the bacon?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?”
“You,” I breathe, my mind scrambling to form words.
His breath ghosts along my jaw, voice dropping even lower. “Good. Because I want to devour every inch of you.”
The soft and slow is gone in an instant as he kisses me hungrily, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. A moan forces its way up my throat as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine.
His hands move down my body, slow—taking his time, fingertips grazing every curve, until he reaches my waist. He grips it firmly and tugs me closer, pressing his hard length against me.
Jesus.My mind blanks.
Just…Jesus.
My arms instinctively fold around his neck, and I can’t think, can’t lead. I’m in response mode only. Submissively his. I arch into him as he backs me against the island. His hands explore my ass, then wrap around my thighs as he lifts me. I open my legs and he steps between them, setting me onto the counter.
His palms glide up my sides, guiding my arms above my head before breaking our kiss. His eyes stay locked on mine as heswallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The tension sizzles. Then his fingers curl under the hem of my shirt, tugging it up and over my head.
A cocky smirk tugs at one side of his lip, and God, it’s the sexiest thing. Like he’s got me right where he wants me, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. I love that smirk. It makes me feel like I’m the most desired woman in the world. Like he’d pick me. Every. Time.
Over and over.
And he does. He keeps choosing me.
Even when I shut him out.
Even when I ignore him.
Even when he knows I don’t trust him. Not completely.
Even when he tells me he loves me, and I don’t say it back.
He keeps coming back. He keeps showing up. He keeps loving me. And it’s that kind of love that makes me believe we can make it. That we’ll come out the other side stronger than ever.
It wraps around my heart like armor, filling every crack, shielding it from the pain I once thought would break me.
He lowers my bra and runs his tongue along my nipple.This obviously doesn’t help my case. My head falls back, and I gasp. He closes his mouth around it and sucks, his tongue flicking in slow circles that send a buzz straight through me.Holy shit. I feel like I’m two beers deep.
I lean back on one hand, the other cradling the back of his head, pressing him closer.
He growls against my skin. “Fuck, Alley.” His teeth scrape gently, drawing a breathy, “Jesus,” from me.
His hands snake around to my back, fingers fumbling with the clasp of my bra. Both my hands thread into his hair now as he licks and sucks and kisses across my breasts.
I scoot closer to the edge, desperate for pressure as the pulsing builds, loud in my ears, impossible to separate from the ache deep inside me.
His mouth makes its way back to mine, and I kiss him with so much force it feels like I’m back in high school—caught up in every new sensation, pouring everything I’m feeling into one hot, desperate make-out.
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