Page 46 of Hate To Love You

“Dreamers. Forever can be a thing.”

“It just takes work, right? But what if work isn’t enough? What if dreaming isn’t enough? What if love isn’t enough? People get divorced. They promise each other forever, and then they leave, and one gets a restraining order and doesn’t tell their daughter, and it makes her think she’s been abandoned and…sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about such baggage. I just…I can’t promise something I don’t believe in, and I don’t believe in forever.”

She gives me such a sad, destroyed look that I’m finished. She’s half-naked in front of me, and I’m not focused on that. I’m focused on how she has been feeling. How she feels right now. How afraid of the future she is.

“People also die,” I say carefully. “I understand promises only go so far, and people can only do so much. Also, sometimes, things don’t work out. The best we can ever give is a hundred percent on any given day, and sometimes we can’t even give that because we’re human. I’m not expecting miracles. I just don’t want to be a one-night deal.”

She pulls a face like she just stepped in a pile of doo and sunk down knee-deep. “If you knew me at all, you would never think that about me,” she says with a frown.

“I do know you. And I don’t think that about you. I just want to be upfront about what I want so no one gets offended, no one gets hurt, and our hearts stay intact. I think we’ve both had enough confusion and hurt to last a good long time.”

“Yes. We both have. I thought you’d know from what I said before that this is the last thing I’d do with you if I didn’t mean it. I promise to try, I promise to keep an open mind, and I promise to stay. It’s not a test. I just don’t know if we’ll work. I’m going on faith and how I feel right now, and I promise that the fact that my vagina has wanted you from the very start isn’t skewing my opinion. If you don’t want to do this now, we don’t have to. Sex isn’t a tool, and it should never be used like that by anyone. Me or you.”

“Dear god, I’ve really bungled this up, haven’t I?” I sigh.

“No.” She strokes my jaw, and I can feel the genuine affection in her touch before I even see it mirrored in her expression. “No, dear. I still want you just as much. I’m wet and throbbing for you, and I feel like I’ll die if you don’t fix that for me, but I can wait. I can keep dying a little. I’d rather go into the house and take care of myself right now than ever hurt you.”

“You won’t. You haven’t,” I say reassuringly.

“Even if, in the end, this doesn’t work out?”

“If, in the end, it doesn’t work after we’ve both tried our hardest, that’s just how life sometimes goes. I promise I will never hate you. I promise I will never have regrets. I promise that I will live to fulfill both those promises each day.”

“Okay.” Her fingers thread through my hair. “Then please, make my vagina’s fantasies come true.”

“Only if they’re the rest of your fantasies too.”

“They’re all my fantasies. All of me. You.” She huffs out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I just know hurting you would be the last thing on my list. I also know I want this between us. I want this…this feeling of being close to you. Closer than anyone else has ever been. Closer than I ever thought possible. I want to know every part of your body and your soul.”

“Okay.” That’s the most romantic and amazing thing anyone has ever said to me. “Okay.”

Her eyes are already dark, but when I trace a line of kisses from her ankle up to her knee, they get even darker. I take her hips and lift her completely away from the burst plastic mess and shift her gently to the bare floor. It’s perfectly soft, sanded, and stained wood. It’s not possible for it to be splintery, but I’ll still take all the care in the world.

I lift her hips and take care with the kisses I plant on her inner thighs. She puts both her hands back in my hair, and I love that twisted-up around her fingers feel that makes my scalp burn. I probably look like she does—out of control, raw, sexed up. Her vagina wanted me? If we’re talking about body parts, then all of me wanted all of her since I saw her again as well. My cock is practically a stone column in my jeans right now. It wants to be buried inside her to the hilt. It wants to fuck her into nonsensical pleasure. And it wants to do anything and everything that will turn her on.

“Tighter,” she whisper-screams as my hands go to her hips again. “Hold me tighter.” I curl them a little bit more. “Like hard enough to leave marks.”

“Jesus,” I growl.

She flushes. “I saved your ass, literally. So if I ask you to bruise mine a little, then don’t be worried that I don’t know my own mind. I have this fantasy playing over and over in my head right now where you lift me clean off the floor, thrust your face into my pussy, and eat me until I’m a hot mess. I want you to fill me with your tongue, fill me with your fingers, and then fill me with your cock. I’m not some delicate flower. I want to feel you.”

Well, if I wasn’t done in already, that about finishes me off.

I give her what she wants. I curl my fingers into her lovely, curvy ass and do my best to make good on what she just asked for, even if blood flow to my cock and brain have been simultaneously cut off by each other. Err, my jeans might have something to do with that.

She’s soaked, and she smells divine as I give her my tongue first. Her clit, my tongue. She’s dripping wet, and I have to taste every bit of her. I don’t think I’m the world’s best kisser, but I’m going to world’s-best-kisser her vagina right now. She thrashes against the floor and against me. Her hips buck into my face, and her clit pulses under my tongue.

“Yes. More. Please. Your tongue is amazing,” she moans.

I play with her clit a little bit more until she’s panting.

“I want to squeeze your ass,” she suddenly confesses out of nowhere. “I’ve thought about licking it too.”

“What the fuck?” I gasp.

“Not like literally licking it. Just the cheek,” she clarifies.

“Oh my god.”

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