Page 34 of Snowy Secrets

Swinging me up in his grip, he kisses me with fervor. My back leaves the couch and finds a blanket on the hardwood floor. More space means more control. More angles. More access.

I giggle as he spreads kisses across my skin, giving me the same reverent treatment, soothing and riling me up simultaneously. Being the center of his attention was always my favorite place to be. Mouth surrounding my nipple, he sucksnearly my full breast into his mouth, and my back bows. Need throbs in my clit.

How does he manage my body so well? My pleasure?

He slowly releases my breast and takes in the other until my feet are scrambling against the smooth floor.

"So tender and sweet." River encases my waist with his hands, so big around me, fingers kneading my skin. His nose presses into my sternum, soft kisses along my ribs. "How did I survive so long without you?"

That tight emotion regroups in my chest. He can't mean that the way it sounds.

15

BELLA

River's mouth spreads desire across my skin, brushing away my tumultuous thoughts. I sink into the sensations of wet heat surrounding my breast, sucking at my nipple before dropping down the center of my stomach.

With a hand in his hair, I drag him back up my body and claim his mouth with my own. The wide expanse of his chest presses against mine, sending a zing down to my toes. I curl around him, legs wrapping around his waist as the purely sinful way our bodies match up has me reeling with need. Even though I've already come for him twice.

He groans into my mouth, rolls his hips over mine, and every slide of flesh against flesh renews my need until I'm whimpering at the lack of penetration. I want him inside me so desperately.

"River," I whine in the barest space between us. My heels hook his hips in an attempt to slide the hard length of him into my core. "River, please."

Bracing himself on his forearms, he leans back to look me over again. "Fuck, baby, you are the prettiest sight in the world when I have you begging for my cock."

Rolling my eyes, I send a knuckle into his ribs. He jerks and frowns at me.

"Come on, baby. You know I'm not into pain."

"Oh, really?" This time, I sink my nails into his back and drag two paths from his shoulders to his hips.

He shudders, eyes hazy before snapping back to my gaze. That quirk at the corner of his mouth makes me many, many promises. "So, we're going to play like that, are we?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Fingers sink into my hair at the back and lock into place. Heat zaps me and makes me wetter. If that's even possible. And River is there, teasing my entrance, spreading me all over him before he thrusts inside me with one long thrust.

My moan seems to have the same effect as my nails, his biceps shaking by my ears and his grip tightening in my hair.

I swear to God, he slows down. After a few slow strokes, he presses into the very ends of me, groin against my swollen and sensitive clit until I offer him a weak cry, my thighs shaking from the pleasure without the hard thumping I really need.

Another score of my nails down his back sends his hips back into motion, and finally, I get the hard and determined thrusts I seek. They build me up, pulling a low, steady hum out of me as I stroke his back, finding every new mark on him.

There are so many.

Emotion twists in my chest, and the pleasure plateaus.

He's been hurt so many times. Almost died who knows how often. And he kept me from being there through any of it, kept me waiting even though he told me that's not what he wanted for me. Like he didn't know I would come to expect a call to say he was gone. Truly gone. I expected one every day for years, wondering how to tell my daughter when the time came.

And this asshole survived.

My taking in a shaky breath catches his attention, and he smooths a thumb across my forehead. Our gazes lock, and he's searching me for something that I don't know I can give him. I've tucked so much of myself away because it hurts too much to keep accessing it.

But the tenderness in him haunts me—or maybe he's haunted. I don't know anymore. I can see how much he missed having me. But maybe that's just the pleasure. Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe we're both feeling a bit nostalgic.

This can't mean anything more than that.

It just can't.

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