Page 75 of The Only Heart that Matters
“Look at you. You are perfect, you know that?”
“You’re beautiful, Gus.”
Our free hands come together, and our fingers interlace, closing in on our climax.
“Come for me, Mia. Let me watch you fall apart from your own touch.”
Spurred on by his request and hoping to give him something to remember this morning by, I let my fingers slide from my clit through my wetness before slipping two inside my pussy.
“God, damn,” he says, as he picks up the pace of his own self pleasure.
I pump my fingers in and out of my center, the feeling nowhere near as good as having Angus inside me, so I slide them back to my sensitive bundle of nerves, applying pressure and friction and it’s only a few seconds before the sensation of my orgasm builds.
“Angus. I’m going to... I’m going... I’m... I’m coming.”
He growls above me, his brows furrowed as he watches my body come apart. “That’s it, Mia. Fuck, yes.”
Once the last pulse of pleasure subsides, I lift my wet fingers to his lips, and he sucks them clean right before he comes all over my stomach, my name tearing from his mouth so fiercely he sounds angry.
Still holding my hand, he leans forward, bringing my arm up above my head. He kisses my mouth for the first time since he woke. It’s slow and gentle, not lust fueled and all tongue. Small, sweet kisses full of affection. Maybe even appreciation.
“Don’t move,” he commands.
He leaves me on the bed and a minute later, he’s back with a warm washcloth that he uses to clean me up.
“Get dressed. I’m taking you to breakfast.”
“I need to get home, Angus.”
He checks his watch. “It’s only 7:30. We have plenty of time.”
He’s right. I doubt Daisy is expecting us home this early. So, we get dressed in last night's fancy clothes and head to Jackson’s Corner for pancakes.
“It feels like the morning after the prom I never got to take you to.” He winks, as he takes a bite of his waffle.
“I still find it hard to believe you’ve had feelings for me all these years. That the attraction hasn’t been one-sided.”
I also can’t believe that in the light of day, in a public place, dressed in our clothes from last night, we're comfortable enough to talk about our feelings with each other.
He opens his mouth to say something, but we’re interrupted.
“Well, looky here. Angus McKinnon and Mia Powell. Who would have thought?”
Rhen Mitchell.
Leave it to this asshole to ruin whatever moment I had just been enjoying.
“Rhen,” Angus says with a nod of his head, not engaging any further.
“You are full of surprises, aren’t you?” he asks, his eyes on mine.
Ignoring him, I take a bite of my pancakes.
“If you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to our breakfast.”
What he’s trying to say is, go back to wherever it is you came from, asshole.
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it? You get knocked up by some stranger and now you’re having breakfast in clothes from the night before. You really are your mother’s daughter.”
