Page 10 of Betrayed

“God, you’re beautiful. You know that?”

Shyly, she looks away.

And then—finally—she walks over to me, fists gripping the hem of her hoodie like she doesn’t know what to do with her hands. She looks up, her lips parted, eyes flicking to mine.

“I missed you.” Her hands go to my chest, her fingers clenching my shirt like she needs something to anchor her. Like she’s not sure she’ll survive without me by her side.

And I like that feeling a little too much.

My mouth crashes into hers, hard and needy, eager to make up for the lost time between us.

We make it to the bedroom.

She moves as if she’s floating, removing her clothes with slow, deliberate motions, like each layer she peels away might protect her from me.

It won’t.

She drops her shirt. Then her bra.

And when she takes off her panties, I almost lose my mind.

I remember the first time I saw her like this.

She was absolutely stunning, her curves wrapped in blue lace as she stood there, ready but nervous, trying to pretend she wasn’t about to give me everything.

Tonight, she isn't pretending.

She knows exactly what she’s doing.

I walk toward her, taking off my shirt and belt, keeping my eyes on her the whole time.

I hold her chin and tilt her face up to mine. “You’re mine, Erin.”

Her voice is nearly a whisper as she says again, “I missed you.”

I pull her to the bed.

The sex is raw.

Not slow. Not soft.

It’s desperate.

I press her down into the mattress as if I’m trying to fuse us together, like I can force the truth out of her with each thrust. But she won’t give me anything.

Not yet.

Still, her body knows mine.

She presses against me as if she never left. Gasps my name like a prayer. Claws at my back as if she wants to bury herself in my skin.

I hold her down and push deeper.

She cries out. Not in pain. In surrender.

But the tension stays.

Even as I drive into her again, her legs wrap around me, and her moans build as her body tightens around mine.