Courting Trouble (Goode Girls #2) - Kerrigan Byrne Page 0,50

who’d never stopped wanting him back.

Why? The question became the metronome to his burst of increasing speed. Why? Why? Why?

His climax blinded him with a flash of lightning, and his resulting roars were the answering thunder as wave after wave of clenching pleasure poured from his body into hers. He was a being of both desperation and rapture, locking her hips down against his so he might allow the gentle pulses of her sex to milk the last vestiges of his own release from him.

This would never be enough, he realized as his abdominals clenched and released their last, his muscles twitching and trembling as they were finally relieved of their prison of pleasure. He would never be deep enough inside of her. Would never tire of holding her against him. Never want to be rid of her rose garden scent and husky, resonant voice.

Forever seemed suddenly insufficient.

And tomorrow wasn’t yet decided.

He cupped the back of her head, pulling her down so her forehead could rest against his. They shared a few intimate breaths, allowing the storm to pass and the waves to still until they stood, each existed in a calm shaft of sunlight. He luxuriated in the feel of her exhales stirring at his overheated skin.

He thought he’d feel better. Sated and sleepy. Like a starving man after overindulging in a decadent meal.

He didn’t.

Instead, he’d unlocked some sort of bottomless abyss that could only be filled by uninterrupted access to her.

Was he becoming like her husband? Obsessive and calculating?

No. He would never. But he certainly had decisions to make. About what kind of man he was, or would be.

“Nora,” he exhaled her name from lungs still struggling to find their equilibrium. “If there’s anything between us, I want it to be the truth, not the past. We should… talk.”

“Don’t,” she sighed, stopping his lips before tracing their outline with a soft and languorous fingertip. “Let us talk tomorrow. Let tonight be about us. About this. Let me show you what you mean to me.”

Her lips replaced her finger on his mouth, convincing him instantly as he stirred inside of her. Tomorrow. They had tomorrow.

Perhaps this long dark night he’d endured without her had been a time to forge them into what they were now. To learn of loss so they could fathom abundance. To build a foundation from the failures of their youth. Perhaps… their souls and hearts were stronger and more stalwart than they might have once been, having gained the perspective of tragedy, war, hardship, and pain.

And perhaps, if the gods were kind. If they could call the past several years a recompense for any happiness they might or might not deserve, and they could find their way to forgiveness. To understanding.

And only then could he lay claim to all her days thereafter.

An Enemy at the Gate

Every time Nora’s shoulder twinged, she couldn’t help but smile. Last night, she’d thrown Titus’s cautions to the wind and overexerted it, but she wasn’t about to admit it to him.

She didn’t regret a single moment.

Besides, the pain wasn’t unbearable, and there were other aches and twinges in more intimate places that she didn’t at all mind.

She’d returned her arm to the sling like an obedient patient, and now sat at the dressing table, brushing out her hair in slow, distracted strokes.

A glow that began at her center shimmered through her in breath-stealing ripples as she assessed her appearance in the mirror.

She’d been shot. A savage gangster was after her. She was a social pariah. She’d been a widow for less than a month.

And her reflection couldn’t stop smiling.

She looked younger, somehow, as if making love to Titus had erased years of misery. As if sleeping in his arms had allowed her to draw from some miraculous well of recovery.

She’d lain awake for what felt like hours after, listening to him breathe. Watching his eyes flutter with dreams. He enjoyed the slumber of a man with an unburdened conscience. There was something lovely about that. Something that’d made her feel both proud and melancholy.

It didn’t matter that the day had dawned grey, nor that Titus had risen before sunrise.

She could feel him close, only a few floors below. Going about his business, saving lives and alleviating pain. She’d never begrudge him that. He loved his work, and a man with such responsibilities wasn’t only worthy of her regard and her admiration, but also her respect.

How long had it been since she’d respected a man?

Besides, he’d kissed her sweetly when he’d

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