Page 90 of The Prodigal

Don’t worry, she finds my crassness romantic—I’m just speaking her love language.

“Okay, fine.” She kneels, flashing me a smug smirk that makes my dick throb. “But you better not disappoint me.”

This is a prime example of someone who has no self-preservation. She literally challenges me to fuck her into a coma to prove a damn point.

“Eden,” I growl. “You have three minutes.”

It takes her two.

“That’s good,” I bite out. “Come here.”

She straddles my face, looking around the beach, finding it empty. “What if you get sand in your mouth?”

“I’ll build you a sandcastle,” I deadpan, unable to grip her thighs with my greedy hands. “Your pussy. My mouth, now.”

It’s like I have lost all sense of manners. Not that I had any to begin with.

But for the past two hours, as Eden played in the water, all I thought about was how I don’t want to let her go.

But I know it’s the right thing to do.

She deserves better than me.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t struggle with wanting her.

I’ve never met someone like Eden. She challenges me in a way that no one ever has.

The last thing I want to do is hurt her.

I’ve never given a shit about what people thinks of me. Not my parents, not anybody. I learned a long time ago that pleasing others was the killer of joy.

Living by my own rules has become an outlet to get through the day.

But for once, I don’t want Eden to hate me.

But she will.

It’s inevitable.

And that bothers me more than it should. I haven’t wanted something or someone in years. I’ve grown accustomed to being alone, and now, I’m being tortured with hope.

Hope for a future that doesn’t end on the floor of a closet with nothing but memories and shadows.

I can’t bear it, so for once, as she pulls her bottoms to the side and lowers down onto my face, I give in to the moment. I make a memory that will keep me warm in the shadows.

“Oh, shit.” Her hands go to my hair, her fingers tightening as I slip my tongue into her tight folds. “Oh, shit.”

I applaud her word choice with a groan as I suck the sensitive nub harshly between my teeth. Her legs quiver around my ears as she bears down, pulling my head to meet her center, as she smothers me between her sweet folds.

Pressure builds in my chest—a sedating sensation consuming me in an instant. I’m warm. I’m safe. I’m…in love.

“This is crazy,” Eden chants. “Are you okay? I mean, can you breathe?”

Honestly, no. But it’s not because she’s riding my face.

“Remington?” She pulls away and finds my eyes.

Fuck.

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