My hands trembled at the enormity of what we were doing, so I pressed them tighter against her soft skin.
Suddenly, I was too far away. I wanted her skin on mine, I wanted to suck the sweat from her chest and feel the quiver in her stomach when she exploded. I wanted her lips on mine. For the rest of my life.
I wanted to marry her.
Wanted to watch her walk down the aisle and thank my lucky stars that life had put this woman in my path, no matter how many mistakes had to be made on the way or what we’d had to endure to get there. It was worth it, just for this. Just for her.
I wanted to see her round with our child. Wanted to grow our family and see her belly lush and her breasts full.
A groan tore out of my chest, my body falling over hers at the thought.
One lifetime of loving Remi Sinclair might not be enough.
I’d beg the stars for more.
Remi clutched at my back, and I took her mouth in a ferocious kiss that sent my pulse sky-high. The pleasure was so high, so sharp, it felt like a razor blade dragging over my spine while I waited for her to go first.
I slid my hand between us and found the spot that made her shake. My thumb moved in tight circles, and on a particularly hard thrust, Remi broke on a choked gasp.
It rolled out, low and slow, gripping me with a brutal fist that made me half stupid. Remi orgasmed with her entire fucking body, and I kissed her through it while I chased my own.
It barreled down my legs first, a splitting sensation that bled warm through my body as I tipped my chin up and groaned her name.
I collapsed on top of her, gathering her close to my chest as we both caught our breath.
Remi cradled my jaw and kissed me again, her tongue brushing mine softly, and I smiled as she pulled back and gave me a dazed look. “We just had sex on your family room floor.”
“Number eight, baby.” I kissed her again. “It was always gonna be a good one.”
Remi laughed, tucking herself against my chest. “I suppose it was.”
“Can we move to the bed now?” I asked. “This is killing my knees.”
She clucked her tongue in faux sympathy. “Rough life, Evans. I’m not sure I feel sorry for you.”
I lifted her slightly so I could smack her on the ass. “You shouldn’t. But if you want date number nine in the next hour, I need some hydration and a mattress.”
Remi rolled over, giving me a glorious view of her backside as she got on her feet. I wedged my hands behind my head and watched her unabashedly. She picked up her underwear and stepped into it, smirking at whatever she saw on my face.
“Not a bad view from down here,” I murmured, sliding my hand up her calf, circling her ankle with my fingers. “Maybe the bed is overrated.”
She motioned for me to stand, and I did with a groan. When I stood over her, my hands skimming her hips, her chin tilted in invitation, and I obliged happily, sliding a soft kiss over her waiting lips.
“Please tell me you have a big bathtub back there.”
I spoke against her lips. “The biggest.”
She shivered. “God, I made such a good life choice with you.”
“Want to get in? I’ll wash your hair if you want.”
Remi arched an eyebrow. “And go to bed with wet hair? You have no idea what you’re asking for in the morning.”
I slid my hands into all that glorious red hair, tipping her head back as I worked my fingers to the roots. “I’ll dry it.”
Her eyes heated. “Oh, keep talking, buddy.”
I smoothed my hands down the lithe line of her back, ending with my palms on her backside. “Yeah? That do it for you?”