Page 59 of My Sweetest Obsession
Because she’ll come to her senses.
Once this euphoria wears off, she’ll realize what a mistake she made by allowing me to touch her like this.
She’ll regret it, the same way she regrets every moment we ever spent together.
And when that happens, I’ll be left with nothing more than these fleeting memories and moments of beauty to get me through the dark and lonely nights.
So, I’ll relish every second of it, savor every drop that coats my tongue and throat, and take as much of her in as I can before she pushes me away.
Her grip on my hair finally loosens, and she sags into me, forcing me to pull my face back. But I am nowhere near done with her. I dip my head to lick off the arousal from her inner thighs, needing every drop of it, every last taste.
She sags, trembling violently with her leg still braced up on the bench, and I tighten my hold on her, keeping her upright as my tongue glides across her skin. Time ticks by slowly as I clean her thoroughly, but eventually, I have to pull my fingers from inside her.
Hooded, lust-hazed eyes follow as I lift them to my mouth and lick them, then ease her foot down to the tile. Her eyes slide closed, and Ivy wavers slightly, hand still buried in my hair, the other slapped against the wall like she needed that to ground her so she wouldn’t fly away. Her chest heaves with each ragged breath, and the hot water beats down on my shoulders as I examine every inch of her.
All those changes the pregnancy has made to her body that have made her even more stunning.
I’d give anything to be able to witness the color of her skin, to watch the pinks and reds spread across it rather than merely being able to see the slight variations of gray.
I know it would be breathtaking.
Because everything about her is.
She finally lifts her head again, and her eyes flutter open to meet mine.
The stormy gaze isn’t filled with the hate I expect to see, but now, I know it wasn’t just water trailing down her cheeks, because tears shimmer and trickle from the corner of her eyes as she stares down at me.
I stay on my knees before her, the only place I belong, because this woman deserves to be worshipped.
She deserved Drew and everything he gave her.
What she doesn’t deserve is a fuck-up like me, yet I can’t seem to stay away.
And neither can she, even when she doesn’t want it.
Finally, her grip on my hair releases, and she pulls her shaking hand back.
It continues to tremble as she presses it over her belly.
I hold her gaze, ensuring she’s with me before I say what she needs to hear, what needs to be said—for both of us. “Keep hating me, Ivy. You need to. I know you do, and it’s okay. But I’m going to make you that same promise again. Anything you want, anything you need, any time. I’ll give it to you.”
A sob rips from her throat, and I want to push to my feet and pull her into my arms, to absorb all her pain and carry that weight so she doesn’t have to anymore.
But I know it isn’t what she wants.
It isn’t what she needs.
She needs to not see Drew’s face and know that it’s all my fault he’s not here.
She needs to pretend I don’t exist, even after what just happened between us.
I push to my feet, keeping my arm wrapped around her since I’m not confident her unsteady legs will keep her upright. Her hand on her belly, now pinned against my soaked shirt, flexes, and I stare down at her, tilting her chin up to make sure she looks at me.
“Anything, Ivy. All you have to do is ask.”
If what just happened doesn’t prove to her that I mean my words, nothing will…
I step back, though it takes every ounce of self-control I possess to do it.
