Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms tightening around his shoulders as he carried me down the hall. His mouth never left mine, kissing me like he was starving for me, like he couldn’t get enough.
He nudged open my bedroom door with his foot and stepped inside, and then we were on the bed, his weight pressing me into the mattress, solid and warm and everything I’d been craving since the night he’d let me use him.
His hands traced down my body, slipping under the last scrap of lace between us, teasing me, making me tremble. I reached between us, pushing at his waistband, needing him bare, needing him now.
He groaned as I freed him, his body hot and hard against my palm. “Jesus, Antonia.”
Then he was kissing me again, swallowing my moans as his fingers teased me, stroked me, knowing exactly how to unravel me.
“I need you,” I gasped against his lips, my body arching, aching. “Please.”
His breath was ragged, his forehead resting against mine as he positioned himself, his hands framing my face, his gaze locking on to mine.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”
Then he pushed inside me, slow and deep, stretching, filling, making me feel every inch of him. My breath caught, my fingers digging into his back, holding on as he moved, setting a rhythm that sent fire licking up my spine.
Weston wasn’t just taking me—he was claiming me, worshiping me with every thrust, every kiss, every whispered word against my skin. And I gave him everything, meeting him stroke for stroke, drowning in him, in us.
We moved together, a desperate, fevered dance, until the pleasure built to a breaking point, crashing over us like a tidal wave, pulling us under.
I clung to him as I shattered, my body trembling, my cries muffled against his shoulder. He followed moments later, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as he buried himself inside me, his body shuddering, his hands gripping me like he never wanted to let go.
And I didn’t want him to.
For a long moment, we lay tangled together, our breaths mingling, our hearts pounding in sync. Weston brushed damp hair from my face, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back.
“You okay?” he murmured, his voice husky.
I nodded, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. “More than okay.”
His lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. “Good. Not to ruin the moment, but I think I heard the doorbell, which means our dinner is sitting on the porch. Either that or I literally heard bells,” Weston laughed.
I sighed, pressing my cheek against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close, and for the first time in a long time, I felt . . . right.
Whole.
Home.
Chapter 34
Antonia
The next day, we were met with a blazing sun, warm temperatures, and hope. Nova ended up spending the night at her friend’s house, and when Cutter came home from Eleni’s, he asked if I wanted to watch a movie with him. He put on a romantic comedy; we sat next to each other on the couch, shared popcorn, and laughed. It felt very cathartic to laugh, especially with Cutter.
Weston had left right before Cutter came home. After we shared a pizza in bed, Weston made love to me again. There was nothing rushed, no urgent need; we took things slow and worshipped each other. I hated saying goodbye to him. Even though he was down the street, it seemed like he was miles away.
I stood in the living room, looking out over Miri’s flower beds. The sun shone on them perfectly. It was like she was up there, directing its rays to us, knowing we’d need her today.
Nova came downstairs, home from Mara’s, wearing a pink-and-yellow dress, and handed me her hairbrush.
“Don’t you look beautiful.” I took the brush from her.
Nova twirled, and the frilly part of her dress fluttered. “This was Mommy’s favorite dress.”
“I can see why. It’s so pretty.” I tapped the tip of her nose with my fingertip. “What would you like to do with your hair?”
“I think pulled up here.” She pulled her sides up and showed me. We went into the bathroom, where I kept most of my things. I rummaged through my hair supplies and found two pins.
Nova handed me the spray bottle and stepped onto the stool so she could see herself in the mirror. I wet her hair and then ran the brush through it. Thankfully, Mara’s mom had brushed her hair last night before the girls had gone to bed.
“We didn’t talk about Mara’s. Did you have fun?”
She lifted her left shoulder. “I’m sad there sometimes.”
“How come?” I feared I already knew the answer but asked anyway.
“Because she has a mommy, but her mommy is really nice to me and gives me hugs when she thinks I’m sad.”