Page 110 of Worth Every Moment

He pushes up on his forearms and peers down at me, fine lines forming at the edges of his eyes. “Are you on the pill?”

“No.”

He takes a long inhalation, head tilting to one side as he bites down on his lower lip. “Shit. I thought you wanted it that way. Without a condom.”

“I did. Idid.” I clutch at my forehead. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t want you to stop. I wanted—”

“I know what you wanted. I wanted it too.” He cups my cheek, stroking his thumb over my cheekbone, and kisses me on the mouth. It’s so tender compared to the rough thrusting he was doing only moments before.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper against his lips.

“Don’t be sorry.” He brushes a strand of hair off my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. “This is on me too. I waited years to do this with you. I won’t regret a second of how it played out. Whatever happens, we’ll work it out. I’ve got you.”

My racing heart slows at the deep calm of his voice, and his words imbue me with confidence. I could face any eventuality—even an unplanned pregnancy—if I had Seb at my side, so I choose not to worry about it right now. Later, if I have to, I will.

“Are you clean?” I ask, which strikes me as just as immediate a concern.

“Yes.” His eyes twinkle. “I wasn’t going to become your fake boyfriend without getting the all clear.”

“For all that fake sex we were going to have?” I tease.

“Exactly.” A cocky smirk settles on his mouth. “Fake sex we just had.”

“You’re such an arrogant—”

“I love you.” He kisses me again.His dick is still inside me.

I love you too. Any doubts I ever had about him being the right man for me fall away, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I thought you didn’t want to look at me,” I admit. “I was worried that you were already regretting it and we hadn’t even finished.”

“Regret you? Not in a million years, Lefroy. This is the pinnacle of my sexual experience.” He jerks his hips and his cock flexes inside me, making me laugh, but his expression turns serious, his voice even more so when he says, “Sorry. I haven’t done that before.”

“Done what before? The post sex cock jerk?”

He smiles, but only for a second. “No. I haven’t looked someone in the eye.”

I can’t conceal my shock. “What? Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t look. Easier not to. I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”

“What idea?”

“That it means something when it doesn’t. Eye contact during sex is… not my thing.”

Shadows flutter in the back of my mind, but the memory of his words, I’m here, I’m with you, and the way he looked at me when we orgasmed together is enough to dazzle them into submission. That, and his professions of love. But I don’t want to make assumptions. “And what about this? Me and you?”

“This means something. It means everything. I’m honoured that you’d do this with me.” His focus descends to where our bodies are joined. “As much as I’d love to stay inside you forever, I gotta come out.”

He stretches over me to grab some tissues from a box on the bedside table, then slides out slowly and catches the mess. He rolls onto his side, staring at the mix of cum and blood that covers his cock, the sheets, my thighs, the tissue in his hand.

“Shit,” he says, his face blanching. “Condom wouldn’t have gone amiss. Are you sore?”

“A bit.”

He trails a finger up my thigh, the tip of it mixing in our bodily fluids. “I’m sorry it hurt.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. It wasn’t a bad kind of hurt.”