Page 79 of Cuffed By Your Love
Her giggle rolled right into my chest as she leaned on me. That damn giggle was so damn sexy, and I didn’t know how I would continue to resist her if she kept it up.
“You loved every second.”
“I loved you through every second,” I corrected, kissing her temple.
She looked up at me, all brown skin and wild locs and honey-glazed cheeks. Her nose ring glinted in the light. Her eyes carried a softness I hadn’t seen since… ever. Lips full. Collarbone glistening. Body curved like temptation got tired of trying to be subtle and just went ahead and made her.
“You always look at me like you staring at art,” she whispered, voice barely there.
“That’s ’cause you are,” I said, pulling her close. “You’re a masterpiece, Deputy Gorgeous. Ain’t nobody ever gon’ see you like I do.”
I led her into the bathroom with my hand resting low on the small of her back. The steam greeted us like it was trying to flirt, and I stood there while she stepped in slowly, one leg at a time, her hips swaying like they weren’t just spread across her mattress.
She lowered herself into the tub with a soft moan, leaning back as the vanilla soaked into her skin and the heat worked its magic. Her head tilted back, locs floating like a black crown in warm water. Her breasts glistened, nipples peeking just above the bubbles. I sat on the edge of the tub, one hand trailing through the water, the other grazing her cheek.
“You know how fucking beautiful you are?” I asked, my voice low and raw, like I was already half-crazy from the sight of her.
She didn’t open her eyes, just breathed. “Tell me.”
I leaned down, lips dragging softly over her shoulder, letting my breath heat her skin. “You are the kind of beautiful that takes up permanent space in a nigga head, set up shop, and never leave. It kills his appetite for anybody else. Got me looking at other women like I forgot what I was even trying to see… ’cause none of it looks like you, and nothing ever will.”
I scooped water into my hands and let it run down her arms, watching the way she inhaled like it was feeding her soul.
“Your skin?” I murmured, my eyes drinking her in. “Looks like God dipped you in gold, then stepped back ’cause He knew He couldn’t top what He just made. Your lips, they have that blessing-giving, soul-snatching power. And your eyes, baby,… they see straight through me, like they know what I’m scared to say out loud.”
I lathered the washcloth, slid it over her arms, her thighs, the perfect curve of her hips. She didn’t say a word, but her body melted under my touch like it already knew I’d never hurt what I held.
“You ever had a man bathe you before?” I asked, my voice thick with want, thinking back to when she did the same for me.
Her smile was slow, her eyes still closed. “Nope. Just you. This a whole experience.”
“Good,” I said, dragging the cloth over her breasts, my gaze locked on the way her breath hitched. “’Cause I ain’t letting another nigga even think about touching you like this.”
She chuckled, lowly and dangerously. “You’re territorial now?”
“Baby, I’ve been territorial,” I said, my tone dark and steady, every word pressed into her skin like a brand.
“You are mine. All this”—my hand swept over her body warm, attentive—“belongs to me, soul included. And I promise you, on me, I’d snatch you straight out of God’s grip if He evenbreathedabout taking you back; kick the pearly gates clean off the hinges, drag St. Peter by his robe down them golden streets, and tell every angel in Heaven they better call for backup… ’cause I’m not giving you up without a war.”
I grabbed the shampoo, and when I reached for her locs, I let the warm water spill slowly, my fingers working through her roots like I was handling something rare and priceless, each stroke deliberate, meant to make her melt under my touch.
“You’re taking your time,” she whispered, a smile in her voice.
“I’m memorizing you,” I said, my voice dropping even lower. “There is no rush on reverence.”
She finally opened her eyes, looking up at me like I’d stolen her breath, swallowed it whole, and made her wait on me to decide if she was getting it back. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Elias Jamal Edmonds…”
I kissed her forehead, then her nose, then took her lips, slow, deep, and filthy possessive, like I was signing and burning my name into her soul at the same time, every stroke of my tongue claiming what was already mine. “I’m loving you, baby. Deliberate enough to ruin you slowly, deep enough to live in your pulse, and reckless enough to tear you apart till every inch of you screams my name. All the way through, till you’ll never want another man’s hands on you again, and you couldn’t forget me if Heaven rewrote ya sexy ass from scratch.”
The water was warm, steam curling around us, the scent of her skin and vanilla soap wrapping around my lungs like a drug. I washed her slowly—mypace—my hands mapping every inch of her as she leaned into me like she trusted every part of my existence.
That was dangerous because I wasn’t just touching her to clean her. I was marking her, etching invisible fingerprints into skin no one else would ever get close enough to see.
When my palms slid over her hips, she shivered, and I swore something in me snapped another link on the chain I kept wrapped tight around my self-control. She didn’t even know. Every sigh, every lean into my hands was another reason I’d throw my badge and my soul on the table if anyone tried to take her from me.
I tilted her head back, letting the water run through her locs while I worked her scalp, slowly and sensually.God, she’sbeautiful.Not in the way that fades, but in a way that made a man rewrite his whole life just to keep looking at her.
When the water cooled, I stood, scooping her up without warning, carrying her into the shower. Rinsing her felt like a ritual. My hands didn’t leave her, my palms sliding down her back, over the curve of her ass, fingertips lingering like I was counting the seconds I could keep her in my arms before the world tried me.
