Page 145 of Nineteen Letters
“Arms up,” I order.
She complies like the good, obedient woman I know her to be. The second I tug her pyjama top over her head, I groan when her bare, perky breasts come into view. She’s always had the most spectacular tits.
A growl rises in the back of my throat as the pads of both thumbs reach out to gently skate over each hardened peak, and when she tilts her head back and moans, precum leaks from my dick.
My eyes flicker back to her pretty face, and I can already sense her uneasiness. It’s because of the scars that now marher once flawless skin. I’ll have plenty of time going forward to reassure her she’s perfection in my eyes, even with these new imperfections.
I don’t want her to let them hold her hostage. They are wounds that are now closed … tattoos of her triumph. They will never go away, but to me, they are a sign of her strength.
I’d never want to relive her accident, or anything we’ve been through since, but those marks tell a story. They are proof she survived, and for this reason alone, I’ll forever be grateful for them.
I gently lay her back as my lips move to pepper kisses across her jawline and down her slender neck. When they skate over her collarbone, heading south, my mouth salivates.
My hands come up to join the fun, palming each breast as I suck one of her taut nipples between my teeth, lightly biting down. She always loved it when I did that to her.
“Braxton,” she whimpers, threading her fingers into my hair and lightly tugging on the short strands.
I lavish my attention in that area until she’s a withering mess beneath me. When I continue my descent down her body, I make a conscious effort to ignore the numerous jagged marks. It’s my first time seeing them.
Some are small, some not so much. They’re all confined to the right side of her body and the sight makes my heart constrict in my chest. It only confirms how lucky we are to still have her here with us.
My tongue swirls around her belly button before dipping inside, and it garners another moan. My cock is throbbing, but I ignore it. This is about her, not me.
When I drop to my knees and lick a line along her skin, just above the waistband of her jeans, she widens her legs. She’s desperate for my touch, that much I know, but dragging this out will make it all the sweeter in the end, for both of us.
My eyes meet hers as I pop the button on her jeans and the desire reflected back at me spurs me on. I’ve missed this look on her.
I drag down the zipper next and notice she still has her sleep shorts underneath.Someone left the house in a hurry.
My attention remains on her beautiful face as my fingers grasp the waistband, dragging her underwear, shorts, and jeans down her long legs all at once.
As soon as she’s free from her clothes, I hook my hands under her knees and spread her wide. My gaze flickers down to the junction between her thighs, and when my eyes move back to her face, I see another sweet blush rising on her cheeks.
This shy and vulnerable Jemma is new. I’m confident in time, she’ll realise she doesn’t need to be self-conscious around me.
With my eyes still locked on hers, I lean down and place open-mouthed kisses along the inside of her thigh before moving to the other side. I can feel her legs trembling in my hands, but as soon as I lick a path up to her clit, circling it with my tongue, her audible moans echo around the room.
I’ve missed her taste, her scent …her.
It doesn’t take long for her to relax back into the mattress. Her hands are now fisted in the bedsheets and she keeps bucking her pelvis toward my face, so I know she’s enjoying this.
I manoeuvre her legs, resting a foot on each of my shoulders, to free up my hands. I groan against her sensitive flesh as soon as I dip a finger inside her and feel how wet she is for me.
“Braxton,” she whimpers as I add a second digit, pushing in knuckles deep. Within moments, she’s falling over the edge.
I growl when I feel her inner muscles contracting around my fingers. As desperate as I am to be inside her, I don’t stop until I’ve drained every ounce of pleasure from her body.
Her feet drop to the floor in a sedated bliss once I’ve finished, and only then do I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and stand.
“How’d I do?” I ask, looking down at her with a smug grin.
“I …no words,” she pants as a lazy smile curves her lips.
“The fun has only just begun, sweetheart,” I state, lifting her from the edge of the bed and moving her into the centre. “I’m not done with you yet.”
I’ll never be done with her.
The smile on her face grows as her eyes rake from my chest down to my abs before pausing at the massive tent in my pants. “I see the Boy Scout in you is still very much alive.”
