One last time.
The words hit me like a freight train. And I understood them in a way I never wanted to. My father was here. My brother was on his way. They would both want his head for the pain I suffered.
I turned and faced him, his fingers slipping free. I cradled his face in my hands as I stared into his eyes. Eyes that held love. Eyes that held pain and fear, and guilt. I brushed my lips against his, giving him permission without saying a word. He was my husband; I had a right to his body, the way he had a right to mine.
I refused to feel guilty for taking what I wanted. If this were the last time he would be in my bed, then I would take everything he was offering.
He rolled over me, pinning me to the mattress with his body. He shoved the T-shirt I wore—the one that reminded me of him—up to my neck and dipped his head, taking a stiff nipple into his mouth.
I wasn’t silent anymore. I let out a slow, deep moan as he nipped and sucked at my breasts. My hands roamed over his back; the scars under my fingertips weren’t as prevalent as the ones on his chest, and I remembered why he’d disappeared.
I wanted to know everything. But not tonight. Tonight was just for us. Two people who needed each other to feel... something more than pain and heartache.
He moved silently down my body, kissing a path to the juncture between my thighs. He pulled my panties down, tossing them across the room. His nose nudged at the apex, his hands kneading my ass.
My legs were thrown over his shoulders, and when the first feel of his tongue hit my skin, I cried out.
My hand went to his head, gripping his hair, holding his face against me as he tormented me the same way he had with his fingers. Slow licks, deep kisses.
“Jude, please,” I begged, no longer caring if he felt like he’d won. In the end, if I let him have my body, let him use me the way he wanted to, we would both win.
He picked up the pace, his hands on my ass, pulling and squeezing, until his finger found the one place only he had been. My back arched as he pushed inside to the first knuckle.
His tongue worked harder, forcing my body to give way to euphoria as his finger found its way fully into my ass.
“Yes!” I cried, desperate for more.
“Come for me, baby. Come on my tongue,” he rasped, his voice filled with something that sounded like heartache. I closed my eyes, denying what I’d heard. Not wanting to admit that this was it.
He fucked me with his tongue in my pussy and his finger in my ass. It was too much—too much pleasure, too much pain, too much heartache, and definitely too much love. My body finally gave in. The orgasm hit me with such force, I clamped my legs around his head, but he didn’t stop until my body came back down to earth.
I lay there, spent. But Jude wasn’t done. He crawled up my body, pressing his lips against mine as he filled me completely.
“Fuck, you feel so good.”
He thrust into me in short, shaky movements. His arms shook as he held himself up, his head down as he stared at where we were joined together.
“Look at you, taking my dick so fucking good.” He smiled at me and pushed harder, filling me deeper. “No one will ever fuck you the way I do, Morgan. No one will ever make you come as hard.”
My hands gripped his biceps, holding on as he thrust inside me, harder, faster, deeper.
“Come for me, baby. Show me how much you want me.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “How much you love me.”
My arms went around his neck as I came hard. He followed immediately, and I felt him explode inside me. Filling me upwith everything he had to give me, except for the one thing I needed.
He collapsed on top of me, and the weight of his body made me feel whole for a fleeting moment before he rolled to the side and pulled me along with him.
When I woke up the next morning, I was alone.
Chapter Sixteen
King
I pulled up in front of the small house and stared at it.
I had a sister.
One I had already counted as a sister.