Page 95 of Everlasting Promises

I don’t need anything more. I crush my mouth to hers in a bruising kiss. It’s the way I’ve wanted to kiss her since the moment I first laid eyes on her. With my hand wrapped around the front of her throat, I tilt her head back so I can kiss her deeply. Her small moan vibrates against my lips, and I swipe my tongue across the seam, pushing my way inside. She opens, teasing her tongue against mine greedily, and it’s a relief to know she’s as desperate as I am. The sweet, fruity wine tastes delicious on her tongue, and I stay a while.

I’m in no rush.

I want to savor this moment with her.

Savor the intentionality of her request.

Her request formeto kiss her.

I take from her, then give double in return. She responds beautifully, participating in our kiss like her life depends on it. We stroke our tongues, tasting and licking. Connecting.

It’s sexy and addictive.

I love kissing. It’s the most sensual way to connect with someone on a deeper level.

But more than anything, I love kissing Hope.

I love the trust she’s giving me.

I love that she’s opening herself up to me after years of celibacy and devotion to the promise she made to her husband.

It feels spiritual in a way.

She pushes up higher, changing the angle of our kiss. Our mouths press together firmly, our desire increasing like an inferno. I cup her breast and moan at the feel of her flesh in my hand. The way her beaded nipple presses into my palm and the softness beneath my fingers. I slide my thumb back and forth across the hard point, eager for the moment I can take it in my mouth.

I slow our kiss with gentle pecks, pulling away so I can kiss my way down her body, but Hope’s fingers slip into my hair, gripping the longer strands on top, tugging my mouth back to hers. I smile against her lips, feeling the heavy beats of her heart beneath my palm. So vital. So here in the moment with me.

With me.

Pressing her wet body against mine, she deepens the kiss like she’s starving. And I guess, in a way, she is. It’s been too long since she’s been intimate with a man.

I can’t imagine the loneliness.

The bone-deep ache.

The emptiness.

I want to fill her up.

I want to soothe the ache and defeat her loneliness.

I never want her to feel that level of intimate isolation again.

I wrap both arms around her, keeping her close, but it’s not enough for her.

She climbs out of the tub and straddles my lap, soaking my sweats and my T-shirt, but I couldn’t care less. If this is where she wants to be, then this is where she’ll be. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she tangles her fingers in my hair, and grinds down over my dick, creating the most torturous friction known to man. A groan vibrates through my body, which Hope matches with a feminine moan.

The diamond points of her nipples rub against my T-shirt, and I wish I were as naked as she is. She rubs her pussy against me through my sweats, her lips still locked with mine. Her long fingers find the back of my T-shirt, and then she drags it up my back, tugging and pulling until I have no choice but to release her so I can tear it over my head. Once I have it off, I toss it to the floor and pull her back against me. A sigh escapes at the beauty of finally having her skin against mine.

Much the same way as the morning we woke together on the couch, I slide my hands down each side of her slender body, my thumbs teasing the sides of her breasts, until I grip her hips and guide her up and down my rock-hard length, still covered by soaking cotton. At this point, the shield between us is essential, or I’ll slide into her pussy, and I’m not sure she’s ready to go that far.

Delicate moans and whimpers escape Hope’s mouth as she works herself toward her release. Her body is flushed pink from the warm bath and her exertion, and I’ve never seen her look more beautiful as she takes what she wants from me.

“Ben,” she whimpers.

“What do you need, Cookie?” I rumble against her lips.

“I-I-I feel so empty,” she breathes. “I need you.”

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