Filthy English (English #2) - Ilsa Madden-Mills Page 0,89

couldn’t commit to you in the kitchen when you told me you were done with Hartford. I’m sorry I’m terrified of losing you. But I want to try. I want to be yours and you be mine. I want to wake up next to you, put my nose at your throat and just . . . breathe. I want to hold you in my arms. I want to carry you up to bed when you fall asleep. I want to kiss you wearing a mask where we pretend like we don’t know each other. I want to live in my house with you.” I pressed my forehead against her. “Just . . . don’t . . . hurt . . . me.”

She pulled my head up, stared into my eyes, and sank to her knees. We faced each other. “I will never hurt you. It’s why I came here tonight. When I left your house, it dawned on me that maybe I needed to be the one to fight harder for you if you couldn’t.”

I kissed her. “I was just getting ready to leave here, hunt you down, and take you back to my house. Seeing you leave today—I can’t ever lose you again. I’ll die without you,” I said, cradling her face. “We are meant to be, Remi.”

Her blue eyes gleamed. “Fate always knew. She tried three years ago to get us together and failed. She tried again in London and failed. But here and now, we’re listening.”

She kissed me, her hands cupping my face and sliding into my hair.

I shivered against her, melting into her. “God, I love you, Remi.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

We kissed, our arms wrapped around each other, and nothing could tear us apart.

I didn’t intend to ever let her go.

Grabbing her hand, I pulled her back up. “I haven’t been able to forget London—or Cadillac’s. I want to own you, body and soul.”

She shuddered. “I’m ready for you.”

Reaching behind my head, I tugged off my shirt, stepped out of my jeans and kicked my shoes off. She watched. Bending down, I fished a condom out of my wallet and slipped it on my hard cock.

“Let me put my back to the tree,” I murmured, my gaze heavy and low.

“Not sure I can move. I—I think it’s the only thing holding me up.”

“Love, I’m gonna hold you up.”

I picked her up and she straddled me, her legs tight around my waist. I backed up against the tree and her feet clung to it. Using every muscle in my body, my hands cupped her bottom as I eased into her wet sheath, dipping in and then backing out, groaning.

She tossed her head back and shuddered, her muscles clinging to me.

I teased her mercilessly, going slow and getting used to the stance of holding her, sliding inside her heat, then coming out to rub across her nub.

Yes, baby, yes. I could go all night like this.

“Please,” she whispered, clinging to my shoulders and writhing, her mouth sucking on my neck. “All the way, Dax.”

Finally, I slammed my cock home.

“Fucccckkk,” I roared, leaving the gentleness behind and taking her with powerful strokes, oblivious to the tree marking up my back.

I cupped her arse and owned her. She moaned when I adjusted my angle, biceps quivering as I worked to press down on the most sensitive part of her skin.

She tugged on my hair until I kissed her.

“Yes, love,” I murmured. “Lean up a little. Get closer to my mouth.” She arched into me, and I went for her tits, laving her nipples. Sucking. Biting.

We devoured each other, our bodies syncing together, knowing innately how to make the other feel good. Sweat dripped down my face and onto her skin.

She was the best sex I’d ever had. Always had been.

She yelped as she went over the edge, her muscles pulsating around me, legs locked around my hips as she spasmed.

I didn’t stop.

With my mouth deep over hers, I eased down the tree until I was lying on the grass and she straddled me. I tugged on her pearls, bringing her to my mouth. “Ride me.”

She sent me a heated look and took all of me, her eyes finding mine as we moved together.

Soft. Slow. Easy.

I cupped her face, my heart full. “I’ve dreamed about us for so long. I just didn’t know how to say it—didn’t know what it was.”

She leaned down and kissed me, her face radiating love. I ran my fingers down her spine. She was mine.