Chapter 82

Gently, he slid his hand up and tilted her head back, exposing her throat and making her position even more vulnerable to him. "Who are you with right now?" Because he could've sworn when he'd first thrust into her, it wasn't him.

"You," she breathed. "I'm with you."

Warmth pushed out the cold, and he pulsed inside her. "Say my name, bixooxu."

"Nakos." A moan. A plea. "Please, Nakos." She arched, throwing her head farther back against his shoulder and nudging him deeper inside her soft, willing body.

Yes. Mercy, yes.

He palmed her breast, kneading, and rolled his hips. "Again. Say my name again."

A strangled sound rumbled through her, into him. "Nakos." Her husky voice was riddled with tenuous tension. "Nakos, Nakos, Nakos," she chanted.

To reward heror pacify himselfhe eased out of her so slowly dots spotted his peripheral. Then, he drove home. Hard. Fast. Her soft, giving flesh cushioned him, cradled every inch of his shaft like a caress. His lungs emptied and his throat burned.

Slamming his lids shut, he pressed his face into the crook of her neck and repeated the motion. Out equaled pain. Back inside was the equivalent of heaven. Torture. Relief. She bore down to meet his thrusts, and the way they moved together was an unbearable graceful dance.

He had her wrapped so tightly in his embrace, there was nowhere for her to go, nothing to feel but her. The backs of her thighs rubbed the tops of his. Her perfect, round ass was snug against his pelvis. The eloquent curve of her spine fit along the contours of his chest like she was made specifically for him alone.

She moaned, trembling, and he realized she was close. He slid his hand to where they were joined, spreading his fingers through her drenched folds and circling her clit with his thumb. Immediately, she clenched around his shaft, and he pumped with all he had left in him. She bowed, but he held her firm. He wouldn't let her escape, would never let her go as long as there was blood in his veins and a beat to his heart.

Fire burned in his gut and spread. His nerve endings sizzled, misfired. He hissed air through clenched teeth as the sensory overload blew him away. He thickened inside her, almost to the brink of release, and his muscles quaked as he tried to hold out.

He pressed his lips to the shell of her ear. "Come, anim," he rasped. "Fall apart and take me with you."

She grew taut, teetering on the precipice. He circled his thumb faster, drove harder, and dropped his forehead to her shoulder as a sheen of sweat broke out on his skin. Just as he was about to beg, she let out a short cry and convulsed around him.

He roared against her neck, mouth wide and jaw locked. Though the sound was muted by her skin, it raked his throat and the ferocity misted behind his lids. Balls tight, jet after jet, he came. His bones splintered, only to mesh and fuse back together again while she milked every last ounce of his life from him.

When he came back into his body from wherever she'd relocated him, her arm was bent behind her and she had her fingers buried in his strands. Words and syllables were a long ways off, but he pulled out and turned her so she faced him. They shared a pillow, and he ran his knuckles over the stubble burn he'd put on her cheek.

"You're quiet."

"I'm recovering." Or trying to. He pulled a breath and met her eyes, but he just sunk deeper instead of gathering his thoughts. "I don't know what to say, Ames. I really don't."

Her mouth opened like she wanted to speak, but it was several moments before she did. "That word, bixu?"

"Bixooxu," he corrected, sensing her turmoil now.

"Yeah." Brows furrowed, she bit her lip. "Did you mean that?"

He traced the soft edges of her jaw with his fingertip, gaze following the path. "Would it be such a surprise? I've loved you many years, Amy."

"As friends."

A sound of agreement, even though he suspected it went way deeper all along, and he settled his hand on her hip. "I meant it as more of a term of endearment than a declaration. Love has many forms, but you were alwaysdifferent. Nothing I can define, and it won't make sense, but I think us, like this, was inevitable. It just took me too long to connect the dots."

"What does that mean?"

He sighed, not sure if that was hope or fear looking back at him. "It means, Ames, that if I'm not already there, it won't be long. Loving you, in any capacity, fills the missing gap I've lived with my whole life. Falling in love with you would seal that fissure." His heart picked up rhythm when that damn doubt crept back into her eyes, and then the beat shifted ribs as uncertainty morphed into what he could only assume was guilt. "Why does that scare you? It's me here, anim. Why does the notion of me loving you frighten you so badly?"

"No one ever has, that's why." Her lower lip quivered. "There were people who were supposed to, some that claimed to and didn't, and others who think they may have, but" She closed her eyes, shutting him out. "If you mean what you just said, you'd be the first."

Hihcebe. If her goal was to gut him, she could consider it a success. He was bleeding out. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he fought the pain binding his windpipe and let his lips linger. He'd wanted inside her head, had needed to understand her hesitancy, but now he couldn't deal with the answer.

It made sense she'd think this way. Her parents certainly hadn't shown her any support or affection. He hadn't a clue about previous lovers, yet all signs pointed to no. Her ex definitely hadn't given her respect, never mind love. She'd had Olivia, her brother, and Mae, but chances were, years and experience had probably taught her not to trust those feelings.

And there he went. With his chest hemorrhaging and her naked in his arms on a lazy Sunday afternoon, he fell in love with her all the way. No crushing sensation. No fear rising up to choke him. No doubt whatsoever.

His heartbeat leveled as if the organ finally had purpose and ferociously thumped like it wanted to rip through his chest to get to hers. He breathed freely, filling his lungs with her sultry scent, and he let himself savor the peace for just a brief moment. It wouldn't last. This situation may be as easy as him opening his eyes and trusting what was in front of him. Yet for her, it wasn't that simple.

He was in for a long journey ahead. Her mind was a congested freeway, her soul a never-ending stretch of deserted highway, and her heart was under construction, even though her body was a winding, curvy back road he could map with his eyes closed. Nothing worth its weight came without effort or determination. All he had to do was take his time, instill the leisurely pace that drove her mad, and do it as fast as he could before she caught on.

He had to prove to her the destination was worth it, that it was a safe place. A happy one. "I love you, Ames," he whispered against her skin. It was a start, at least. "I love you."