Page 56 of The Soul Never Forgets

This man makes me feel worshipped. And loved. It doesn’t matter that we haven’t professed words of love to each other yet.

Dawsey hooks his fingers through the elastic waist of my panties and drags them down my legs. My head is spinning from the sensations of what he’s doing to me, and I use his shoulders to balance myself as I lift one foot at a time to step out of my panties.

He tosses the white lace aside and glides his hands up the back of my legs, beginning at my ankles until he reaches my cheeks and cups them, pulling my groin against his face. “You and Gussy smell the same.”

That’s a new one for me. “I was not aware of that.”

“I might not have noticed except that I—I mean I as Frank—was with her in adeeply personal manneronly three nights ago.”

“I remember thatdeeply personal manneryou’re speaking of. Augustina was quite fond of it as I recall.”

“Yes, she was. Are you fond of it?”

“I was fond of it when I was her. I wouldn’t know if I like it in this lifetime seeing as I’ve never experienced thatdeeply personal mannerwith anyone.”

“That is a misfortune that I must set right immediately.”

Dawsey gets up and stands in front of me, grasping my hips, and guides me to the bed. The backs of my legs touch the mattress and I sit, scooting back to make room for him. He crawls onto the bed, kissing the inside of my thighs, beginning at my knees and working his way up. I let my legs fall apart, making room for him between them.

I rest my head against the bed and briefly look at the ceiling before closing my eyes. My breath deepens and accelerates as his mouth inches higher. The wait is torment, but then his tongue flattens against me and glides upward in one fluid motion.

Slow. Torturous. Magical.

His mouth performs a variety of tongue acrobatics. He’s being a showoff. But the real showstopper is when he pushes a finger inside me and glides it in and out while his tongue works its sorcery.

“Just like that. Don’t stop,” I manage to say through the panting.

It builds and builds and builds. In little to no time at all, he takes me to that place—the one where a frenzy of pleasure rushes to my groin and tiny quivers vibrate deep within my center.

Makes me feel like I could punch a hole in the sun.

He crawls up my body until we’re face-to-face. “How was your firstdeeply personal mannerin this lifetime?”

“Out of this world.”

“Frank taught me a thing or two the other night.”

Frank was always very good at it. “You learned your lessons well.”

“How do you suppose he was such a pro at oral sex in 1939? We know he wasn’t watching porn.”

“The boys at the boat shop talked about their weekend activities every Monday morning. I’m sure he learned a lot from them.”

He grins and brushes the backs of his fingers against my cheek. “Your face is flushed.”

“Your face is…” I reach out and touch his chin. “Wet.”

“I wonder why.”

Dawsey winks and stands, kicking out of his shoes. He pulls his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it, and then his pants and boxers join his shirt on the floor.

He’s a beautiful man—soft and hard in all the right places. And he’s mine.

He moves over me, and his mouth covers mine. He kisses me with such passion and love. No man has ever kissed me this way.

He uses his legs to push mine apart, and our bodies mold together perfectly when he slides inside me with one smooth motion. Skin on skin. Perfection.

“You’re mine, Cara,” he whispers against my ear.

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