Page 91 of Must Have Been Love

I swallow, but the lump in my throat still stays. He loves me? I can’t quite understand it. And yet he doesn’t look like he’s lying at all.

“So let’s do this slowly,” he says. “Tonight is about you. I’m going to sit down on that bed and you tell me what you want. You want to put our pajamas on and go to sleep? We can do that. You want to talk all night, until I prove to you that I’m not going anywhere? We’ll do that, too. Or if you want to sleep on the bed alone, then I’ll take the floor. The last time I did it was the second best night of my life.”

“Sleeping on my bedroom floor was the second best night of your life?”

He nods.

“Why?” I ask him.

“Because it was the first night you let me take care of you.”

Ka-pow.My heart shatters into tiny pieces. I swear I can feel it scattered against my ribcage. “Stop it,” I whisper.

“Stop what?”

“Stop making me fall.”

“I don’t know how to stop,” he says. “Tell me how to.”

But it’s too late. I think we both know that. The tide is high and the pull is hard and no amount of swimming will ever conquer nature. “I want you naked,” I tell him. “On the bed.”

“Okay.”

To my shock he does as I ask, taking his jacket and tie off, then unfastening his shirt. I watch as he shrugs that off too, revealing his taut, muscular chest.

His eyes are on me as he toes his shoes off. Then he flicks his fly open and my breath catches as he pulls his pants down.

He’s hard. His thick length presses against his stomach as he follows my instructions and sits.

I kick my own shoes off, unable to tear my eyes away from this man who’s willing to make himself vulnerable to make me feel better.

“I hate you,” I tell him, pulling my dress down over my breasts, the fabric brushing against my nipples as I slide it further until I’m naked too. “I hate you for making me love you.”

He exhales softly.

“You gave me your boxers,” I whisper, dropping to my knees and crawling to him like a cat in heat. “Nobody’s ever given me their underwear.”

“How many men have you asked?” There’s a hint of jealousy to his voice that I like.

“Just you.”

I reach his feet and incline my head to look at him. I’m still on all fours, naked. His gaze is so intense it makes my nipples harden. Sliding my hands up his calves, I feel his muscles tense beneath my touch, until I get to his thighs, my fingers tracing every line, every sinew.

And then I touch his cock.

It’s smooth and warm and so hard. I’m in love with this part of him, too. I curl my hand around him, feeling him pulse, hearing him groan.

Then I slide my mouth over him. My heart is thudding against my ribcage, my pulse so fast I swear it’s almost unreadable. I lick and suck this strong, stubborn man until he’s so damn close to oblivion he’s vibrating.

“Sky…”

I love the way he calls me that. I love the way he tangles his fingers in my hair, hard enough to feel it, but not so hard it hurts. I love the way he groans as I scratch his inner thighs with my nails, then move up to his balls, my mouth warm, my tongue adoring, finding a rhythm I know can take him over the edge.

This is for the boxers. For sleeping on the floor. For loving me.

“Skyler.” His voice is more urgent this time. I look up and he’s shaking his head. “Not in your mouth. In you.”

I don’t need telling twice. I’m so hot and needy. I push him back on the bed and practically climb him like he’s my favorite piece of play equipment. I close my hand around him again, but this time I rub his tip against me and he presses his mouth to mine urgently, like he needs to kiss me to survive.

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