Page 115 of Luck of the Draw

“Look at me now, Skye.” He lifted his forehead off hers, and she opened her eyes, blinking her tears away. Tears had collected in the inner corners of his eyes, and he blinked them away as well before they had a chance to spill out. “You’re precious to me. Know that. Understand that. Believe that.”

She swallowed to deter the urge to keep crying. “I do.”

“Honey, I’m not going to do this unless you’re absolutely sure you want it.”

She drew in a breath, nodding. “I am.” She anchored her fingers into the muscles that flanked his spine, urging him closer. “I am.”

Brennan shifted away for only long enough to pull a condom out of the nightstand and roll it on, and then he braced his forearms on either side of her head. He kissed her forehead, eyelids, cheek, and mouth, slowly and with rapt attention. One of his hands traveled from the curve of her hip, up her waist, and gently squeezed her breast, the pad of his thumb circling the peak. He scattered kisses over the plane of her chest and then covered her nipple with his mouth and tongue, and a quiet whimper exited her throat.

Brennan’s hand skirted down her navel again, languidly tracing a path down, down, down… His two fingers slid between her wet, aching lips, stroking her with meticulous attention while he kissed her slow and deep. Skye looped her arms under his to grip the hulking muscles of his shoulders, her fingertips sliding over his skin, memorizing the feel of it. She drew long lines down the striations of his back muscles, then over the side of his narrow waist to reach for his cock, holding him firmly and using the head to stroke the humming ache.

He grazed his fingertips over her thigh, and her breath hitched. A quiet, mirrored exhale escaped his mouth, but he otherwise restrained himself while he followed the direction of her urging to gently ease into her.

As he did, he murmured against her lips, “I love you, Skye. I love you so much.”

With complete tenderness and slow, calculated consideration, he moved in her, driving himself deep while whispering quiet words of admiration and adoration. Hands in her hair and fingers laced between hers, he eased to her depths and retreated, over and over and over, while kissing her equally deep and equally tranquil.

Tranquility steadily gave way to fervor. Brennan’s slow, calculated strokes morphed into rapid thrusts of his hips, and she rocked against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Pleasure flooded her, and she captured his mouth for another deep kiss. He moved faster. The massive, solid oak bed groaned while the headboard tapped against the wall like an out-of-control metronome.

“Yes…holyfuck,” Skye cursed, throwing her head back against the pillow. “Yes…right there…oh my God, Brennan. I missed you so much.”

He fumbled to snatch both of her wrists and pinned her hands to the pillow, then nuzzled his nose and lips against the side of her neck. “Jesus…Skye… you’re so…just…everything.”

Her brows knitted as that glorious, glorious hum began in her core, snaking through her veins and extremities. As if sensing this, Brennan released her wrists so he could cradle one side of her face and kiss her deeply while slowing his thrusts way,waydown and pushing even deeper.

“Oh God, oh God,” she gasped, eyelashes fluttering. “Oh no…no, not yet.”

Not yet.

Don’t let it end yet.

But it was happening.

It was coming.

The end.

Skye’s climax slammed her core, the intensity and pleasure at levels of crazed blindness, and she gripped his hips with her thighs, andyes. This was how it always should have been. Brennan had ruined her for any other man that might show up after him, and that was fine. He was a glimpse of heaven, and the memory of him would be enough to sustain her for the rest of her life.

But now she would actually have the rest of her life. She wouldn’t have that if it weren’t for him.

He was wrong.

He did save her.

But the end was still coming.Shewas still coming. The tremor waves of blinding pleasure surged through her, and the intensity of it all had her burying her face into his neck and stifling quiet sobs.

“I’m going to be okay, Brennan,” she cried. Was she trying to convince him or herself or both of them? “I’m going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. I swear to God, I’m going to be okay.”

The sound that reverberated in his chest was something between a growl and a whimper. “You are.” His words were quiet, breathy, and fragile. “You are…fuck…” A guttural moan of pure desperation spilled from his lips, and he pressed his forehead against hers. “I love you so fucking much.”

The words left his mouth, and they were both simultaneously catapulted over the pleasure ledge and into the abyss of perfect euphoria. She cried out his name, and he growled an expletive, and her nails clawed into his back muscles as though they could tether her to him despite every reason them being together was impossible.

Afterward, Brennan collapsed on his back and held her to lie on his chest. They lay silently, save for their steady breathing, for several minutes until he squeezed his arms firmly around her and kissed her head.

“You are,” he said. Skye didn’t need to ask what he meant. “You are. And while you are…just remember what I said.”

As if she could ever forget any part of him or this.

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