Page 58 of Where We Promise

“Whatever you think is best.”

SIXTEEN

JAMESON

I wanted her.

Fucking hell.

Whatever you think is best.

What I thought was best was her opening those creamy thighs and letting me slip in between them. What I thought was best was her kissing me again and telling me she’d be mine for real, but there was too much fire in our past. If we looked back on it, all we’d see was ash and devastation. No way to build a new foundation from it.

I kept all my spinning thoughts to myself as Penelope laid out before me. She’d trusted me with this…I had offered to help her, and she trusted me. I wouldn’t take advantage of that.

“We need to take your shorts off…” I swallowed thickly, unsure how I would even be able to concentrate when she looked the way she did. With tiny strands of midnight silk kissing her neck, the rest piled on top of her head in a way that made her sexy. Her lips were pink, wet and puffy as if she’d been biting them. Her tits were barely concealed by her low hanging tank now that the straps weren’t holding it up.

Fuck me.

Her hands gently bunched at the waist of the shorts, so I moved to help her. Together, we pulled them down and tossed them to the floor. She was in white lace, and the way it rested under her pregnant belly was somehow so fucking hot that I nearly came in my sweats.

“These too,” I rasped, pulling up on the lace at her hip. I was seated next to her and trying to act completely unbothered by the notion that within seconds I would be touching her pussy. Something I had only dreamed about since I was fifteen years old.

She went to drag them down, but I moved, pulling them the rest of the way down her legs. With the side lamp lit up on the opposite side of the bed, it left enough light to see her. A flash of bare skin greeted me as she lifted the small triangle of skin under her belly, and her pussy was recently shaved. I could tell because she’d missed a few places and it made me want to smile. She was mostly bare, save for a small strip of hair, and a few places she just couldn’t reach.

She was perfect. Completely and utterly perfect.

Using my index finger, I slowly stroked up the line of her slit and then back down.

I could hear her intake a sharp breath, and it only encouraged me.

“I’m not going to use any toy on you, Penelope. I’m not using anything but my fingers to make you come. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” It was a rasp, a desperate, filthy plea.

“Lower your arm, push that fabric down and show me those nipples.” My fingers brushed over her slit, slow and soft. She pushed the burnt orange fabric down, releasing her heavy breasts and I had to withhold a groan of my own. Rosy nipples and dark areolas pebbled against the cool air. The heat didn’t get back here until around midnight, but up until then, the room was chilled.

I watched as her hands came up and cupped her breasts, while lowering her gaze so she was watching me. I was already observing her, but with her eyes on me, I skimmed my thumb over her clit, just a small brush.

Her gasp had me biting back a smile. “Did you want a little more pressure, Pen?”

She lifted her hips the smallest bit as a way of answering. I clicked my tongue and continued stroking her ever so lightly.

“Answer me. Do you want me to push inside your tight pussy and fuck you with my hand?”

Her pink mouth parted as her blue eyes seemed to catch fire. I would brand this image of her in my head forever. I’d imagine she was mine, and I’d—fuck she practically was mine—I just had to marry her. Even then, if she had reservations, I could pull her over the line she always drew between us. I had held back for so many years, even when I knew she wanted me…I still refused her.

I’d done the noble thing. Now, it was my turn.

“Please, Jameson,” she whispered, and then begged, “please.”

I pushed two fingers inside her while my thumb stayed pressed against her clit, rubbing caressing circles.

“Jamie,” she whispered, lifting her hips and trying to chase the pressure of my fingers in her cunt.

I held her knee down as I slid in another finger and pushed deeper.

“Oh my god.” Her breathing was more like a hissing wail, as she tried to boost her hips again, but I held her knee down. My fingers worked her, sliding out and then back in, creating a wet echo in the room.

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