Page 81 of The Honest Affair

He pulled out, then slid back in. And did it again as he sucked reverentially on my lower lip. His movements were slow, but almost harsh as he located the depths of me, trapped me against the linens, dared me to throw him off.

But I didn’t want to. Matthew wasn’t scared of the fight. I knew that now. Tenacious and valiant, he would fight for those he loved with every fiber of his being. His friends. His family. And me.

I arched as an arrow of need shot through me, violent and true. Matthew slipped a hand around my neck and urged me up to wrap my legs around his waist as he sat back on his knees. Then, with a sudden thrust, I was backed against the wall, my head smacking the plaster as Matthew buried himself even deeper.

“This,” he mumbled into my neck. “You. Me. Oh, God, Nina. You don’t even know.”

“Don’t know what?” I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut as he thrust harder, taking a punishing pace that still somehow set me free. “Tell me.”

“How much—how much I love you. How much I need you, Nina. With fucking everything I am.”

His eyes squeezed shut with anguish, though he continued to move. I threaded my hands into his hair and pulled, urging him to look at me again. When they opened, his eyes were wells of love and fear.

“Yes, I do,” I told him honestly, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Yes, I do, my love. My all. I know because I feel the same. You are my heart, Matthew. You are my everything.”

He groaned, the animal sound visceral and vibrating through us both. His hands gripped the flesh of my thighs hard enough to bruise, but the pain was delicious. His mouth found my breast, bit lightly into the soft flesh. I screamed. With love. With joy. With every unnamable emotion I had ever felt for this man. For everything I ever would.

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