The Reality of Everything - Rebecca Yarros Page 0,107
morning.” His voice was scratchy with sleep as his gaze raked over me. “You look incredible in my shirt.”
“Are you regretting last night’s gentlemanly concern for my virtue?” I teased, hoping he couldn’t see how unsettled I felt beneath my smile.
“Not even a little bit.” That smile shifted to a smirk.
“You have the restraint of a saint.” I rolled my eyes, knowing he could have taken me four different ways last night and I would have loved every minute of it.
A millisecond later, I was yanked against Jackson from chest to thigh, his hands like soft vises on my hips and his very large, very hard erection straining between us.
“Does that feel saintly?” he asked at my ear before running his tongue along the shell. “Because the things I want to do to you definitely put me in the sinner column.”
“Unh.” I couldn’t even make an intelligent sound as he kissed his way down my neck. I was all about the sinner column.
“How the hell do you smell so good?” he muttered. “God, I love waking up to you in my bed. We need to make this a regular thing.”
“I have my own house, you know.” My thighs shifted against his as he found a spot that turned me on like a freaking light switch.
“Fine.” He nipped at the base of my throat, and I slid my thigh over his. “We’ll sleep here when Fin’s home and at your place when she’s not. See how good I am at compromise?”
“Uh-huh. Is she used to seeing women in your bed?”
He flipped me to my back and rose over me with a look of pure disgust. “Hell no, she’s not. She’s never seen me in bed with a woman who wasn’t her mother, and it’s been so long since that happened, I doubt she even remembers, since she was probably about eighteen months old. I don’t bring women home, Morgan. Not here. Not ever. This is where I raise Fin.”
“But I’m here, and I qualify as a woman.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, which should tell you that this means something to me. You mean something to me, and it’s not casual.”
My breath caught.
“I thought we were in an exclusive non-relationship.” I raised my hand to his cheek and lightly stroked my palm over his raspy, unshaved skin. Sweet heavens, I was going to drown in his eyes if he kept looking at me like that.
“You can call it whatever you want, Kitty. Labels don’t matter to me unless they matter to you. I know what we are, and like I said—it’s not casual.” He settled between my thighs, and I hooked my ankle around his waist. His gaze dropped to my lips as his breath hitched. “I’m all in.”
That sweet ache in my heart devoured my common sense, and I pressed my lips together to keep the ill-advised words behind my teeth where they belonged.
“What’s wrong?” Concern filled his eyes.
I shook my head and pressed harder.
“Morgan. You gotta talk to me.” He lifted his thumb to my chin and gently pressed down so my lips parted, then touched the barest of kisses to my mouth.
“I think I’m falling for you,” I admitted in a rush, then prayed that the words had slurred or come out in French, Japanese, Russian, or any other language he didn’t speak.
He smiled, and it blew the previous, sexy, sleepy one right out of the freaking water. I was in trouble. So, so, so much trouble.
“Well, say something!”
The look he gave me was so tender, it made my eyes burn. “I don’t need to think. I already know. I’m just glad you’re catching up, because I am so far gone for you that I can’t even see the shore anymore.”
Oh. I pounced, claiming his mouth in a kiss as I grabbed onto whatever parts of him I could reach. The nape of his neck and the smooth, firm skin of his back became my only anchors as he parted my lips with his tongue and sank inside.
He kissed me so long and so hard that by the time he lifted his head, we were both panting, watching each other with lust-glazed eyes before diving in for round two. I was never going to get enough of this man. My need for him only grew each time he kissed me.
My hips arched against his, and the hard length of him stroked over the lace of my thong with enough force to push the fabric against my clit. “Jackson,” I