Page 77 of Tender Heart
I want to take it all. And by the way she studies my face as I struggle with this, she knows what’s going on in my head.
I rest my forehead to hers. “I can’t be gentle with you, Evie. You’re too much for me.”
“I know. I don’t want gentle, Cal. I want you.” The words are pleading. Lifting my gaze to meet hers, I find her desperate.
So. Fucking. Beautiful.
We made it three days in the forest without crossing this line. Now, back home, it’s impossible to control. She must feel it, too. This impossible, improbable thing between us.
“Promise me one thing.” I grip her hips with too much force.
“Anything.”
“Leave when your nine months is up.”
Her breath hitches and her hands splay over my chest, one covering my heart. Her face bunches before she schools it back and nods.
“Good girl.”
Her eyes flutter shut, hands tracking up my neck, fingers curling over my jaw. “Please, fear milis.”
My throat closes over. The words she found, the ones no one has ever said to me before, splinter my heart.
I slam her into the tiled wall, my grip turning feral. Tilting her head back, she opens for me. I sink into her, claiming her mouth. She’s pliable, soft flesh and warmth.
She’smine.
Twenty-One
EVIE
Wanting someone has never hurt like this. The ache growing for this man is sending me to the brink. His fingers curl in my hair, one hand collaring my throat. It’s all I can do to drag his mouth back to mine when he goes up for air. The throb between my legs has long since turned my insides to lava. My heartbeat thunders, turning every breath into fiery nothingness.
“Callum,” I rasp.
His grip around my neck fades and knuckles graze over my stomach, heading to the ache at my center. Mouth agape, I whimper when his fingers sweep over my clit. He holds his eyes to my own as my face twists with pleasure. His lip curls at one side, like he can feel it, too. Like each jolt he sends through me buries itself inside him, too.
“Evie, this is mine. This wet-as-fuck pussy—all mine.”
I pant as he runs two fingers through my center. I fight the need to close my eyes and sink against the wall at my back. I don’t want to miss a moment of this. Every look he gives me, every face he pulls—I want to capture them all and commit them to memory.
For . . . when I leave.
I hate that sentence more than any other that has ever existed.
The fact that my time here with this man is limited burns. A hole, right through me. Teeth find my nipple and the thought bursts and disintegrates. Writhing against the wall, I want him everywhere.
It seems all I ever do with this man is beg.
“Fuck, look at you, baby girl. So damn needy for it.”
He sinks two fingers inside me, and I arch off the wall with a whimper. His thumb circles my clit as he pumps his fingers deep, curling them forward. My body is vibrating, my footing getting sloppier by the second. A hand grips my hip, steadying me in the slippery tub. The water turns cold, and Cal groans, pulling his fingers from my core.
“No,” I choke.
A sly smile curls over his lips as he slides them into his mouth. He growls around his digits, tasting my need dripping down his palm. When he’s done with his hand, he turns and shuts off the water, shoving the curtain back. I step toward the edge of the tub, and he grabs me up, settling me on his hips.
I slam my mouth over his before he has a chance to take a step. Fire consumes my body, and the only cure is him.
