Page 64 of Worth the Wait

That made me laugh. But I instantly let go of him and reached for his arms instead, squeezing the hardness of his muscles as I explored this new version of him. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just haven’t been with anyone else but you,” he said, his blue eyes radiating with so much emotion.

I wondered if he expected his admission to shock me, but the truth was that I would have been more shocked if hehadslept with other women. I would have hated knowing that. Especially when I couldn’t even remotely think about being with another man.

“Me neither,” I confessed.

I thought for a moment that I might have broken him completely because he grew so still that only his chest was moving.

“The thought of someone else touching you doesn’t work for me.”

“The thought of you moving on makes me sick,” I said, even though I felt selfish for saying it.

I was the one who’d left him. He had every right to move on without me.

“Could never do that.”

“No more talking,” I demanded because his words were too much. Too intense. Too raw. Too honest. Too painful.

Without warning, I felt the tip of him at my entrance and didn’t even think twice when he didn’t stop to put on a condom. We’d stopped using them once I got on birth control, but I hadn’t been on it lately. There’d been no need.

“Patrick,” I breathed out headily as he started to push inside.

“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?” He stopped.

“I am better than okay.” I smiled, but I reached for his face so that he’d look at me. “But I’m not on the pill anymore, so you’ll need to pull out.”

“Okay.”

He nodded once and then pushed all the way in. I threw my head back and swore I saw stars.

“Jesus, baby. You’re so damn tight.”

“Oh God,” I said as my hips started to move, and my body stretched to accommodate him.

He leaned down to kiss me, his mouth moving so slow that I thought I might die. It was torturous but delicious. Kissing him had always been a dream, but even this was something more.

Patrick moved like water, his body rolling like a wave in the ocean, and I matched his motion effortlessly. His movements were fluid, so smooth that it was like we were one. There was no beginning and no end to our two bodies. We were tied together beyond the physical.

This wasn’t sex for old times’ sake or a good old-fashioned screw. No. This was what making love felt like. The connection crackled in the air between us, our souls dancing, writhing, and combining. It was as if I could reach out and touch our essence with my fingertips.

“I love you, Addi. I still love you so fucking much,” Patrick said as his pace quickened.

I knew he was close. I felt him grow even bigger and harder inside me. And as much as I wanted to keep him inside of me, to feel him lose it all in me, I released my grip on his lower back and died a little as he pulled out to spill himself on top of my stomach.

“I still love you too,” I said as soon as he finished.

“I’ll go get something to clean you up,” he said, his chest heaving with his accelerated heart rate.

And then his lips were back on mine, all traces of softness gone. He claimed me, bit my bottom lip, and licked at my mouth without warning.

“Mine,” he said before pushing up from the bed, and the cold air swooped in and swallowed me whole.

He was back in a flash, a warm washcloth in his hand; he rubbed it across my stomach gently, wiping me clean.

How the hell had I ever walked away from this man?

And how was I going to do it again?