Heartbreak Lover (Broken Hearts Academy #2) - C.R. Jane Page 0,57

eyes. He stripped me bare emotionally and literally, until I lay there naked beneath him, the act of removing my clothes one piece at a time somehow more intimate than all the times before.

My stomach did a somersault, and then suddenly, I was pressing my face into his chest as I cried, really cried, like I hadn’t before.

At once, my hands that were limp on the ground raged against him, fisting in his shirt and wailing against the hard muscle beneath, all the while he whispered in my ear, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. I love you. I love you. I love you, Everly.”

In time, the well finally ran dry and we just stayed pressed together, my sniffles the only thing interrupting the serenity between us. With fingers in my hair, he pulled until my head was tipped back and I was forced into eye contact. “I love you. I should have told you every day.”

A look of vulnerability appeared on his face just then. “Do you love me?” He laughed bitterly. “I guess all of this means nothing if you don’t.”

“The fact that I love you might be the only thing I’ve ever really believed in in my entire life,” I told him shyly.

“Say the words, little angel,” he ordered, hope blossoming across his face.

“I love you,” I told him with a quiet giggle.

“Again.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He kissed me, breathless, and when my lips were free, I added, “Always.”

“Mine,” he said as the perfect pitch of his hips against mine started to send every nerve into a tingling sense of awareness. “No more running. For either of us.”

“No more running,” I agreed.

Careful and sure, his next kiss was at first a gentle caress. He savored me, slow and sinful. A tilt of his head, a brush of his mouth, a tug from his teeth, the slightest hint of his tongue, and repeat until I was breathless. This was the kind of kiss that could last for days, and just when I settled in, he became reckless. From careful to careless, he licked into my mouth. Asserting his power, his fingers tugged at my hair and dove in. I moaned when his teeth pierced my bottom lip. The color of my voice painted the sky, matching the vibrant colors of the flowers around us, giving life to the still air.

One of my hands landed in his hair, and I pulled myself up and into him. The other gripped the front of his shirt. Twisting a handful of the cotton in my fist, I held nothing back, molding my body into his. I circled my hips, until his groan mirrored my own. He hurriedly stripped off his shirt, giving me a sexy-ass smirk as he did so.

Bare chest heaving, he kneeled above me, drinking me in with those insatiable, blue eyes that matched the sky above his head.

He didn’t speak; he didn’t have to. I could see everything written in the tight clench of his jaw, the tension easing as his gaze lingered over my body. He wanted me, but it was more than that. More than need, more than lust. The shadow covering his face was not enough to hide his love.

An unexpected moan escaped my parted lips, and my body was on fire just from his gaze. He smiled a feral smirk that grew as he crawled over me until we were nose to nose. I licked my lips and accepted his mouth when he crushed his against mine. I’d hungered for him constantly since that day I’d seen him in the Rutherford hallway, and it ate away at me whenever we were apart. I was desperate for his touch like never before. I felt his answering moan in the pulse between my thighs. It wasn’t enough; it was never enough.

Not with Jackson.

Snaking my hand between us, I fumbled with the zipper of his jeans and settled for palming his erection through his pants. His mouth became more urgent, as did his tongue and hands. But he broke away, pushing up to his knees and pressing mine apart with the spread of his. The harsh sound of our labored breathing fell around us like the tails of a fireworks display—explosive and ready to start a fire.

Trying to take back a little control, my fingers glided over his length, and I squeezed at the base. Jackson was hot as hell, and all mine. My own personal golden god.

A lock of hair

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