gazing down at me.
“Eyes open,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”
“Eyes open,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”
I blink up at him, my heart hammering, my blood
pulsing hot and hea一vy through my body, desire, real and
rampant surging through me. Then he eases into me oh-soslowly,
filling me, claiming me, skin against skin. I push
down against him and groan loudly. Once fully inside me,
he pauses once more, his face strained, intense.
“You are mine, Anastasia,” he whispers.
“Always.”
He smiles victoriously and shifts, making me gasp.
“And now we can let everyone know, because you
said yes.” His voice is reverential, and he leans down,
capturing my mouth with his, and starts to move . . . slow
and sweet. I close my eyes and tilt my head back as my
body bows, my will submitting to his, sla一ve to his
intoxicating slow rhythm.
His teeth graze my jaw, my chin, and down my neck as
he picks up the pace, pushing me onward, upward—away
from this earthly plane, the teeming shower, the evening’s
chilling fright. It’s just me and my man moving in unison,
chilling fright. It’s just me and my man moving in unison,
moving as one—each completely absorbed in the other—
our gasps and grunts mingling. I revel in the exquisite
feeling of his possession as my body blooms and flowers
around him.
I could ha一ve lost him . . . and I love him . . . I love
him so much, and I’m suddenly overcome by the enormity
of my love and the depth of my commitment to him. I will
spend the rest of my life loving this man, and with that
awe-inspiring thought, I detonate around him—a healing,
cathartic orgasm, crying out his name as tears flow down
my cheeks.
He reaches his climax and pours himself into me. With
his face buried in my neck, he sinks to the floor, holding
me tightly, kissing my face, and kissing away my tears as
the warm water spills down around us, washing us clean.
“My fingers are pruny,” I murmur, postcoital and sated as
I lean against his chest. He raises my fingers to his lips and
I lean aga
本章未完，点击下一页继续阅读。