Page 58 of Knot in Bloom
The admission hangs between us, honest and vulnerable. His expression shifts, and I can see the moment it hits him—really hits him—that I’m talking about him.
“Sadie,” he says, my name rough with emotion and barely restrained want.
“Yes?”
Instead of answering with words, he kisses me again. This time there’s nothing tentative about it. His hands frame my face as his mouth moves against mine with years of pent-up longing finally given permission to surface. I respond with equal intensity, my fingers fisting in his shirt to pull him closer.
When he trails kisses along my jaw to find the sensitive spot behind my ear, I can’t hold back the soft moan that escapes. The sound seems to undo something in him, because suddenly his mouth is back on mine, more desperate this time.
“I’ve thought about this so many times,” he murmurs against my lips, one hand sliding into my hair while the other traces the line of my throat. “About being alone with you somewhere beautiful.”
“Kiss me.” The words come out breathless as his thumb finds my pulse point, pressing gently until I arch into the touch.
His hands slide into my hair, tilting my head back so he can deepen the kiss. I can taste his need, can smell how his scent has turned rich and possessive. When his tongue traces the seam of my lips, I open for him eagerly, and the kiss turns consuming.
The combination of his taste and scent overwhelms my senses. My body responds with a rush of slick so intense I gasp against his mouth, and his answering groan tells me he can smell exactly how much I want him.
“God, you smell incredible,” he breathes against my lips. “Like honey and vanilla and everything I’ve been craving.”
My cheeks burn, but instead of being embarrassed, I feel bold. Desired. “You make me feel like I’m coming apart.”
“Good.” His voice has gone rough and possessive. “I want you to come apart for me.”
The kiss goes on until we’re both breathless, until I’m practically in his lap and his hands are roaming over my back with increasing boldness. When I shift to straddle him properly, feeling how hard he is beneath me, he groans low in his throat.
“This is dangerous,” he says, voice rough with want, but his hands guide my movements when I rock against him.
“Why dangerous?” I gasp, rolling my hips again and watching his eyes go dark.
“Because I don’t want it to end.” He presses his face against my neck, breathing me in deeply. “I could stay here with you forever.”
“So could I.” I run my fingers through his hair, loving how he leans into the touch.
“Sadie.”
My breath catches. “Yes.”
“You’re going to kill me,” he mutters, but his hands help guide my movements, showing me the rhythm that makes us both groan.
“Good way to go,” I breathe, then capture his mouth again before he can respond.
We lose ourselves in kissing and touching, hands exploring over and under clothes while the afternoon sun filters through the trees. There’s something perfect about this moment—the beauty of the setting, the man in my arms who’s been so patient and gentle, the knowledge that we have time to savor this.
His mouth finds the sensitive spot below my ear again, and when he sucks gently, I cry out and buck against him. The sound echoes off the surrounding trees, wild and uninhibited.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against my throat, voice rough with satisfaction. “Let me hear you. No one’s around for miles.”
His words send another rush of heat through me, and when his hands finally slide under my bra to cup my breasts, I throw my head back with a moan that would make me blush under normal circumstances.
“So responsive,” he says with wonder, thumbs brushing over my nipples until I’m writhing in his lap. “So perfect.”
When we finally break apart, we’re both flushed and breathing hard. I’m still in his lap, my sweater rucked up, his hands splayed possessively across my bare back. The evidence of how much I want him clings to my skin, mixing with his cedar warmth until we smell like each other.
“I love this,” I say, surprising myself with the admission.
“This?” His voice is rough, hands stroking along my sides.
“All of it. You, the creek, how you make me feel.” I trace the strong line of his jaw with trembling fingers. “The idea that maybe I could have everything I want.”
