Page 139 of Restless Hawke

I know that feeling all too well.

For so long, I didn’t think it was possible for Atlas to ever forgive me. The fact that he has is still sometimes difficult for me to grasp, even after two weeks of Sunday dinners, sweaty gym training sessions, and dozens of conversations that somehow fell back into feeling completely natural without any of the tension I thought would never go away.

So, what Allegra is saying rings true in my heart.

She didn’t think we would ever be in this position again. It was so out of the realm of possibility that she wouldn’t have even considered it when she came back to New Orleans, especially after what I said to her the last time we saw each other.

Yet, here she is, teary-eyed, panty-less, wet and ready, and she still doesn’t seem to grasp what I’m trying to tell her.

I cradle her face in my palms, brushing away the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. “I forgive you, Allegra. Because I have to. Because if I don’t, it will eat me alive the same way the entire situation has been for the past several weeks.”

“I’ve been so fucking miserable.”

Her confession swells my chest. “Me too.”

Another tear slips from the corner of her eye and trickles down her cheek, and I brush it away with my thumb and drag that across her lips. Her tongue darts out across the pad and my cock twitches.

This woman is everything I’ve ever wanted.

Beautiful.

Smart.

Sexy as hell.

Andbrave.

So fucking brave to have come here and taken this stand for us—and for herself.

She presses her forehead to mine, releasing a long sigh, heavy with all the emotions we’re barely managing to contain. “I’ve missed you, Coen.”

Her whispered confession wipes away any self-control I had left, and I slide my free hand up under the hem of her dress to find her slick core.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you, too.” I slip a finger along her slit and kiss her. “I’ve missed the taste of your mouth.” Another kiss. “Your cunt.” Another. “How you feel on my fingers and my cock…”

She whimpers and grinds down against my hand.

“I’ve missed those little noises you make when you’re frustrated and want to come.”

Almost as if on cue, one slips from her mouth, and I catch it in another kiss that quickly turns frantic.

Nails score my neck.

Her hips roll against me.

My fingers slip easily inside her. “And you’re ready for me, aren’t you?”

She nods, groaning, her hands tightening on me, those nails biting into my skin harder. “So fucking ready…”

Her hands leave my neck and reach between us to my belt, freeing my cock and sliding the material away to give herself room.

The limo turns left, and we slide slightly on the leather seat, both of us laughing as I pull my hand away from her core and she settles herself against the head of my cock.

I lift my fingers to my lips and lick them clean as she slowly engulfs me, sinking down inch by inch, her scalding, wet heat enough to make my balls seize up and want to release immediately.

Fuck.

She drops her forehead against mine, her breath ragged when she finally settles down on me. I move one hand to her hip, keeping the other tunneled in her thick, dark hair. She tries to move, tries to shift up, but I keep her down, completely still on my cock.