Page 75 of The Forever Game

I could have called him, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn my phone on. After the string of abusive texts from Ryan after I walked out of there, I switched it off. It was tempting to throw the thing in the trash can, but I kept it in my bag, buried deep and untouched.

Waiting for Ethan to return was pure torture.

But then he arrived.

And now he’s standing in front of me, gazing at my naked body like he’s in awe. Like he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to call me his.

Lifting my hand, he brushes his lips over my tattoo, smiling down at it and murmuring, “I really love this, you know? Think I might have to get myself anM.”

I want to grin up at him, but emotions are still riding through me. I feel raw and fragile, so I step against him, rising to my tiptoes and kissing his lips again. I need this connection. I have to be with him. To seal this new start with a physical act. I can’t talk anymore. There are no words, only hands and hearts and bodies.

Scrambling to pull his shirt off, I quickly unbuckle his belt. My movements turn frantic, a little whimper popping out of me.

“It’s okay, lil’ mouse. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears burn my eyes again, and I can’t look up at him. Instead, I let him unzip his pants and watch them fall to the floor. His boxer briefs follow, and I drink in the glory that is Ethan Galloway.

My man.

My husband.

My future.

Resting my hands lightly on his hips, I look up at him and wobble out the words, “I love you so fucking much.”

He grins, cupping my face and kissing me deeply. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he lifts me off the floor and walks us into the shower. The hot spray kisses our skin, and I groan at how good it feels. Every part of me aches, like my muscles have been carrying my stress and burdens for the last year and are finally starting to release the toxic energy I’ve been functioning on.

“Relax, baby,” Ethan murmurs against my cheek. “I’ve got you.”

His hands glide lightly down my arm, and he bends to kiss the bruises. I tense, closing my eyes as the tip of his tongue caresses my tender skin, then start to relax when he reaches my shoulder, his gentle kisses trailing up my neck before finding my mouth again.

Sinking into him, I press our wet, naked bodies together and revel in the hard planes of his muscles. I love every curve and taut ridge.

His hard cock presses into my belly, but when I go to reach for it, he stops me.

“Let me wash you first.”

Spinning me around, he faces me toward the shower spray, and I tip my head back, soaking in the heat, letting the warm steam wrap around me as he lathers up his hands and starts to wash off the grime I’ve been living with.

His hands are smooth and tender, gliding over me in a fluid motion. He massages my shoulders, working out the knots before trailing around to my front. His soapy fingers tease my nipples, and I groan, sinking against his torso.

I feel like he hasn’t touched me in months.

My mind ticks, seeking out the memory of the last time we were together, and I can’t even find it.

No, wait, it was…

Shit, we haven’t been intimate since that angry sex we had on the couch back in… when even was that?

Weeks ago. Months, even.

It’s a travesty.

Pressing my hand against the wet tiles, I steady myself as he presses into me, his cock wedged against my back as his finger finds my aching clit and lightly massages it.

I moan, closing my eyes and panting as he works his magic.

He knows me so well. We’ve spent years discovering every crack and crevice of each other’s bodies. We know our hot spots, what makes us quake and moan the loudest. He knows just how to make me writhe and whimper with pleasure.

---