Page 92 of Be My Bride

It sends an explosion rocking through my body.

My attention turns to her chest again.

Sucking.

Nuzzling.

I don’t stop until she’s gasping.

Until her hands are tugging on my hair so hard it hurts.

She cries my name, “Hansley.”

I smirk.

And then my slow, lazy journey continues south.

I can’t put this feeling into words.

The difference.

Between Asia.

And everyone else.

There’s almost a reverence to my touch. A quiet understanding that this is it.

This is home.

I don’t want any distance between us.

I want to destroy every doubt, even in my own mind.

And I convey that with every stroke of my thumb against her skin.

This time, when I part her thighs, there’s no tension.

No stiffness.

We’re both standing on the cusps of a force much stronger than either of us can recognize. But I’m willing to jump in.

Even if I shatter when I reach the bottom.

Damn.

As long as I shatter alone.

As long as I don’t take Asia with me.

I press kisses up her inner thighs and silently beg her to stay on top of the cliff. To just stay there. And not take a single step more.

If she runs to me, she won’t find me. I’ll be free-falling.

Falling so deep into her no one will be able to rescue me.

My kisses go up.

Up.

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