Page 58 of Promise Me Forever

Thank Christ for that, because I have no fucking idea how I would have torn myself away from her if her answer was different. I slowly push into her with one long, smooth stroke, savoring every inch as her tight heat envelops me, squeezing me tight. “Jesus, fuck, you feel amazing,” I groan, resting my forehead against hers. “So fucking wet for me. You’re fucking perfect.”

Amelia gasps and rolls her hips, urging me to move. “You feel amazing too.”

I rock into her, setting a slow, deep rhythm that has her groaning. I start gentle, but then I pull all the way out and slam back inside her, hard. Her nails dig into my back, and she cries out as I hit that sweet spot inside her. “Oh, my! Drake,” she moans.

I pick up my pace, driving into her harder with each stroke until the headboard slams against the wall on every thrust. I worry vaguely about the neighbors, but only for a split second. I don’t give a shit about the neighbors or the rest of the world. All that matters is Amelia and this moment right here. The way her body feels against mine, the desperate little sounds she makes as I push her closer to the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” I say, nipping at her earlobe. “Let me hear you.”

Her cries grow louder and more feral as I pound into her. I feel her walls squeezing me tighter as she gets closer to the edge. I’m almost there too, my head spinning and my heart booming as endorphins race through my body. Snaking a hand between us, I find her clit and circle it with my thumb. Her back bows, arching off the bed, and a keening cry escapes her lips.

“I know,” I say, soothing her, feeling my own release near. “Come for me. I want to feel you fall apart for me.”

Her nails rake down my spine as she shatters around me, crying out my name. The tight squeeze of her pussy is enough to trigger my own climax, and I bury myself deep inside her with a guttural cry.

For a moment, we’re both still, panting heavily as we come down from our high. I rest my forehead against hers, not wanting to break our connection just yet. Maybe not ever. Amelia’s hands come up to cup my face, her thumbs stroking mycheeks. It feels magical, this thing between us, and for the first time in as long as I remember, I feel safe.

“Drake,” she breathes out. “That was incredible.”

It was better than incredible. It was so good they need to invent new words to describe it. But right now, I don’t want to talk. If I talk, I might fuck it up. And if I fuck this up, my heart will snap in two. Instead, I seal my lips over hers once more, pouring everything I’m feeling, everything I am, into this kiss and hoping that it’s enough.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

AMELIA

Fingertips skate over my stomach, rousing me from sleep. I open my eyes and decide that I must be dreaming. Drake is in my apartment. In my bed. And he’s not just here, he’s leaning on his elbow, staring down at me with an expression on his face that makes my breath stall in my throat. Not to mention his fingers are moving lower, which is really distracting. “Morning, baby.”

I press my lips together. He sounds real enough and feels real enough, but it could still be a dream. “How long have you been watching me sleep?”

He scrunches his nose like he’s deep in thought. “Not long. I mean you look pretty fucking adorable when you’re sleeping, but it’s kind of hard lying here next to you and having to keep my hands off your body.” His fingers head farther south. “Actually it’sreallyfucking hard.”

I shift my hips, accidentally rubbing myself against him. Wow. Smirking, I run my hand down the length of his thick shaft. “I’d say it was rock solid, actually.” A flush of satisfaction comes from the knowledge that I can make him feel like this, that I have this power over him. This is the first time in my life I’ve felt truly powerful, and I like it. A lot.

He slides his hand between my thighs, fingers teasing my sensitive flesh. “Yep. Totally irresistible,” he murmurs, his voice huskier than usual. “Especially when you’re all warm and soft like this.”

I gasp as he slides a finger inside me, my body already responding to his touch. “Drake…”

He claims my lips in a dominant kiss, already knowing my body so well it’s like somebody drew him a map. He knows exactly what I like, exactly how I like it. He works me with his skilled fingers, and I arch up to meet him, my body craving more despite everything we did last night. Despite him waking me in the early hours to do it all over again.

“God, you get so fucking wet for me, Amelia,” he groans against my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

My cheeks flush with heat. He’s not wrong. He works my body like he knows the cheat codes. Still, a girl has to play a little hard to get, right? “You’re so sure of yourself, Drake James.”

He laughs softly, his fingers slipping out of me. The loss of him makes me groan every single time. “I’ll tell you what I am sure of.” He rolls on top of me, pinning me to the bed with the weight of his body—not to mention his monster penis.

I raise an eyebrow in amusement. “And what’s that?”

“I’m sure I’m going to eat your pussy until you scream this entire apartment building down.” He presses a kiss at the base of my throat. “And when I’m done, you’re going to ride me like my good fucking girl.”

Sweet baby Jesus, yeah I am. I’m so used to lawyer Drake, office Drake, borderline-stern Drake, that this playfully dominant, filthy-mouthed god is leaving me dizzy. He’s going to eat my pussy, and this time I have no hesitation at all about letting him do it. Not now that I know how it feels and how much he genuinely enjoys it.

“Aren’t you, Amelia?” his growl is a low warning before his teeth pinch at my collarbone.

I gasp. “Yes sir.” I didn’t mean to call him sir, and I guess it could be a little weird given that he’s actually my boss, but it also feels all kinds of right. He lets out a satisfied groan as he moves lower, suggesting that he thinks so too.

I curl my fingers in his hair, urging him down. He resists for a second, flashing me a smirk before he presses his palms flat to my inner thighs and pushes them wide apart. “Drake,” I whimper.

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