Done fighting that was.
We weren’t done with other things.
Sex, as I’d mentioned before, was awesome.
Make up sex was out of this world.
Heightened emotion didn’t only make for effective kisses, it made for effective everything.
I didn’t think either of us held back during sex. Sometimes Chace controlled the intensity. It was rare but it could happen that I might get a little timid with nudity but Chace had a mind to that and never pushed.
But after you’d almost just broken up with your boyfriend who you loved even though his best friend told you not to. After he’d shared with you he’d taken one look at you and knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you then let you into his deepest, darkest secrets that were way deep and scary dark. After that, you didn’t think of anything.
Not anything.
But each other and using that emotion and anything else you had to make the bad go away and bring on the good.
And the good was good.
It was all hands, mouths, fingers, tongues, rolling, yanking at clothes, tugging at shoes, tossing them away, then clenching, scratching, licking, sucking, biting, positioning, gasping, groaning, whimpering and growling.
Then Chace took over and did me on my knees and two seconds before I would find it, he pulled out, dropped to his back beside me, yanked me over him and he made me ride him. Which I did, hard, my eyes on him hooded, my h*ps moving fast, grinding deep, my hands sliding over his chest.
Then I was on my back, Chace’s h*ps pumping between my legs, he was up with one hand in the bed, arm straight, one of my knees hooked around it, the other hand between my legs, thumb right where I needed it.
And, oh God, it felt good.
So good I was this close again and it wasn’t going to be good. It was going to be fantastic.
Chace drove in deep, stayed planted and ground his h*ps into mine.
“Faye,” he growled, I forced my neck to right and tried to focus on him. “No one gets in here but me,” he declared, making his point grinding deeper into me.
“Okay,” I breathed.
“No one, Faye.”
“Okay, honey.”
He pulled out, slammed and ground in again. “Ever, Faye.”
“Ever, Chace.”
He pulled out, slammed and ground in and ordered, “Say it again.”
“Ever.”
Another slam and grind then, “My name, baby.”
“Chace,” I whimpered, shifting under him, so fraking, fraking close.
He released my knee and fell to his forearm in the bed beside me. It shoved under and his fingers curled around the back of my neck.
I instantly wrapped my leg around his hip, tipped my head up and, his lips against mine, he whispered, “Do you love me?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Always?”