Page 101 of Stone Vows

Tears well in my eyes and my throat stings. “I don’t believe you. I see how you look at me. What happened between us back then—it doesn’t just go away. I loved that time we spent together. And I know you did too.”

He shakes his head in denial. I’m not sure if he’s trying to convinceme, or himself. I’m losing him. And it hurts. It hurts my head. It hurts my heart. It even hurts to breathe.

“Why do you think I named my daughter Ellie?” I cry. “It’s short for Elizabeth, Kyle. I named her that because being Elizabeth with you was the best month of my life.”

He grabs me, both of his hands on my upper arms. There’s so much pain in his eyes. There is a battle raging behind them. One I’m not even sure he knows which side he wants to be on. “Then why didn’t you fucking trust me? Why did you leave like that?”

He’s angry. But his anger doesn’t scare me. It’s not directed it me. It’s almost like he’s angry with himself for not letting himself love me. His eyes are glassy as they beg me for answers.

“I’m sorry,” I say, tears spilling over and rolling down my face. “I’m so sorry I left. But I’m here. I came back for you, Kyle. I’m risking everything for you now. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see I lo—”

Before I can get the word out. Before I can even form another thought in my head. Before I realize what is happening, his lips come crashing down on mine.

Chapter Forty-seven

His kiss is hard and demanding. Like he’s claiming me. It’s different from the kiss we shared over six months ago. It’s not sweet, seductive, and promising like it was back then. It’s messy. Emotional. Purposeful.

His tongue comes out, parting my lips as we devour each other. He tastes like whiskey and mint. I’m sure I taste of wine and pizza. He sucks on my tongue. I moan into his mouth. His hands come up to grab my face, holding me in place as if he’s afraid I’ll pull away.

I won’t.

Wild horses stampeding through his apartment couldn’t get me to stop kissing him.

My hands are everywhere. On his neck. In his hair. On his back. On his ass. I can’t get enough of him. I’ve never touched him like this before. Not outside of my dreams—the ones that keep me warm at night and haunt me during the day.

Once he’s sure I won’t pull away, he allows his hands to explore. He runs them down my sides, then around to my back, and finally up to my engorged breasts. When he grabs them, he cries out, “Jesus, Lex.”

I’m ripping at his clothes like I want them gone yesterday. He’s pulling at mine as if we share a brain. Shirts come off, pants go down, material gets ripped. We don’t stop until we are completely naked, all the while kissing, touching, and feeling every inch of flesh we can reach.

I moan loudly when he reaches between my legs, dragging his fingers through my wetness and spreading it over my clit.

“Kyle!” I cry out when he rubs circles over my pulsating nub. I cry out again when he pushes a finger inside of me.

Never has it felt like this. Like my body is being worshiped instead of used. Like I’m giving a gift instead of obeying a command. I can’t stand it. I’m building so fast, I feel I’m going to explode.

I wrap a leg around him and he pulls me up into his arms, holding me by my ass as his penis throbs between us. I’ve never wanted anything so badly before. “Kyle, I want . . .” I can’t even explain it. I can’t articulate it.

“What do you want, Lexi?” he asks, running his tongue down the side of my neck over to my ear. “Tell me,” he whispers.

“Everything,” I say, breathlessly. “I want everything.”

He walks us over to the kitchen and puts me down on the back corner of the L-shaped counter. He holds my stare with his as he carefully lifts each of my legs to place them outstretched on either side of me. Oh, my God. I’m completely on display for him.

When he looks down at me, before he touches methere, he traces a finger over my C-section scar. I remember what he said last night about delivering Ellie; about being the first one to hold her, and I wonder if he’s remembering it too.

Then, when his mouth touches me, I shiver. Tingles race up and down my spine as he swirls his tongue around on me. He slides a finger inside me, then two. I grab his hair as he crooks them to find my sweet spot. “Oh, God,” I murmur over and over as his fingers work their magic.

His other hand reaches around to my backside so he can hold me against him when it gets so intense I feel I need to pull away. I find it completely erotic to look down on him and watch as he does this to me. Purely for me. For my pleasure and mine alone.

He brings me right to the edge of detonation, and then he pulls back, withdrawing his fingers; his tongue. My body is begging for release. “Kyle, please,” I plead.

He smiles as he resumes his ministrations. I pull on his hair, hoping he will hurry this along and let me come. I can’t take it anymore. The buildup, the ebb. But I need it to flow. I need it to flow like I’ve never needed it before. “Do it . . . please!” I yell.

He pulls back once again, looking amused. “Do what, Lex?” he asks with a crook of his finger.

“Make me come!” I shout. “Jesus Christ, Kyle, make me come already!”

He snickers, resuming his tongue on my clit where he licks, sucks and laves circles on it, making me pant and squirm. This time, however, when I reach the precipice, he doesn’t stop. He keeps moving his fingers and circling my clit as I buck my hips into him. “Yes,” I breathe, holding his head tightly in place.

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