brain, the one that sometimes was there when she was close, and he needed her desperately.
“Please be telling the truth,” she whispered and nodded.
He slammed home, not taking chances she might change her mind, plowing through those tight folds that drove him out of his mind. Instantly he was gripped in a silken, fiery fist. Her sheath felt like paradise, so perfect there was no way his memories or his imagination could have prepared him for the feeling of ecstasy.
He gripped her hips and pulled her back into him as he surged into her again and again, losing himself in her body. Losing his demons, driving them away for the priceless time he had. He’d lost her, so he knew what it was like without her. He knew he needed her far more than she would ever need him, and he was okay with that. He didn’t have a lot to give her. He didn’t know the first fucking thing about relationships, only that he’d screwed theirs up.
Her breath was coming in little sing-song sobs and he slid his hand up her back to her nape and then around, so his palm cupped her throat. “Not yet, baby. Hold on for me.”
“I can’t.”
“A little longer. Hold on for me.” He knew she would. She always had, although the fire was so much hotter. Her body was tighter than ever, gripping and squeezing until he thought he might go insane. He felt her heart beat against his palm. It was there in the fiery silk of her sheath, beating around his cock. That fire. That beat. That breath. His again. His chance at having it all when in his life, there was no such thing as living.
“I’m going to give you fucking everything, Bree,” he whispered, meaning it. The world. Whatever he could to make her happy. He’d get their son back, and he’d find a way to keep from screwing things up again with her.
“Just get there.”
He loved that little demand in her voice. His woman. Bossing him. She always did that at the end, when she was desperate for release and he was holding her on the edge. He moved in her, his cock so hard, so in need, surrounded by her. That perfect moment, balancing on the edge. He thrust hard again and again, feeling the exquisite tightening of his balls, the fire moving like hot magma through his body. He threw his head back.
“Now, baby. Let go now.”
She obeyed immediately, her body clamping down hard on his, gripping his cock, constricting the blood flow for a moment, her body that tight. Then he was exploding, rocketing into her, the release flinging him to a place where nothing could touch him. Nothing. Not his demons. Not the whispering voices of the dead. Not the ones he’d failed. There was only Breezy and this—paradise and the reprieve that only she gave him.
Her soft little cries tugged at his heart. Gave him satisfaction. He loved when Breezy came, when her body was right there with his, and he knew no one knew her the way he did. No one knew what she liked or needed the way he did.
He held her up, his cock pulsing in her, feeling every ripple. Every powerful aftershock. This was the moment he had to be the most careful of. He could lose her right here. She would try to distance herself from what they had together. He couldn’t blame her, there was too much unsaid between them. There were things he didn’t want her to know. Even now, through her hurt, she looked at him as if he were someone amazing and special. If she really knew him, she wouldn’t. He wanted to keep that look but there could be no half measures this time. If he demanded her commitment, then he had to do the same.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her steady when he could feel her shaking, as he withdrew. He hated leaving the haven of her body. For a moment, he rested his head against her back and then pressed kisses down her spine.
“Thank you, baby, for believing me. I know that was difficult for you. I needed you more than I needed to take my next breath.” He had no problem telling her the truth of that. There were things he didn’t want to share, but she needed to know—to be reassured—after the vile things he’d said to her—that she was his world.