Page 122 of When You Blush

“So. Fucking.Mine.” He growls the words, his forehead resting on mine as he moves, and I swear, I know on a molecular level that I’ll never be the same.

Where it was fast and hard earlier, this is long, slow strokes, as if he’s savoring every inch. Every gasp. As though I’m the most precious thing in the world, and he’s taking it all in.

Because Iam.I’m the most precious thing in Blake’s world.

He will never hurt me like Nathan did. He’ll never neglect and leave me like my parents did.This man loves me.

Blake loves me.

Bringing my hands to his face again, and with my lips ghosting against his, I whisper, “You’re my home, Blake.”

He’s balls deep inside me when he stops moving. His eyes widen, and his hand cups my cheek, but he doesn’t pull back. His lips still brush mine, and I can taste the love pouring out of this beautiful, intelligent, dedicated man.

He is everything I respect, everything I need.

“You’re everything.” Tears fill my eyes, but these tears are happy ones. “You’remy home.”

He brushes a tear away and rests his forehead against my own. “I can’t ever be without you again, Harper. My life doesn’t work without you in it.”

“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He starts to move again, and he presses his thumb against my clit.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“Come for me, beautiful.” He tugs my lower lip between his teeth. “Come, sugar.”

Every cell in my body quivers from the ecstasy of this climax. I feel myself bear down on him so fucking hard that he roars and comes with me, pulsing inside me.

And when we’re a tangled, panting, sweaty mess,Blake brushes my hair off my cheek and grins down at me.

“Shower.”

“Wait. Yourlegs still work?” He laughs, but I keep talking. “How? I’m pretty sure I’m boneless at this point.”

“Come on, I need to clean you up so I can get you messy again.”

“You’re trying to kill me.”

“No, baby. I’m fucking worshipping you.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

BLAKE

The sun shines right in my face, making me too warm, so I kick off the blankets, then search for my woman so I can sink inside her and start the day right, but the bed is empty, and the sheets are cool where she should be.

I don’t fucking like that.

After pulling on some sweats and doing my business, I pad out to the kitchen, the smell of coffee leading the way. There’s a pot on the warmer, but no Harper.

A glance around the living room tells me she’s not in there, but then I glimpse her dark hair out on the patio and move to the window.

There are moments when seeing her is a punch in the gut. When all I can do is stare because she’s so fucking incredible, it steals the breath from my body, and I have no words to describe how absolutely phenomenal she is.

Harper’s lying against the cushions of the swing, abook in her hands and her mug of coffee resting on the table next to her. She’s wearing an old blue med school T-shirt of mine that looks way better on her than it ever did on me and a pair of little denim shorts, leaving those long legs bare. I want those legs over my shoulders or wrapped around my waist, and I want to lose myself in her perfect body.

It doesn’t look like she’s eaten anything, so I make us each a quick protein shake and walk out to join her, needing to be near her.