Slowly, I bring my knees up and dig my heels into the mattress, opening my legs wide. He bites his lip and presses me open more.
“God, Iris. Yes, baby. Show me.”
He palms my pussy. His huge hand covers it, possesses it. One long finger caresses me in the divide between the lips where I’m swollen and throbbing. The thickness of two fingers invades, presses, and hooks inside me. My back arches off the bed, straining against the pleasure. My hips thrust in time with his fingers fucking me. He’s a conductor, and my body sings for him, my cry of release a note sustained, held.
I close my eyes and bunch my hands at my sides, holding onto this perfect sensation for as long as I can. When I open my eyes, August is staring at me, and the look on his face brings tears to my eyes. To have someone look at me like that and to have someone feel the way he does—it’s the most humbling thing I’ve ever had. Every time he touches me, he restores my faith and reminds me what pure love feels like.
“I love watching you come,” he says, one finger tracing the sensitive skin inside my thigh.
“Why?” I catch his hand and pull him toward me until he’s up on the bed between my legs, and I move to my knees, facing him.
“You’re so vulnerable.” He tugs on a strand of my hair streaming around my arms and shoulders. “I love that you trust me with that, that you’re so unguarded.”
“That’s because when I’m with you, I’mnotunguarded.” I kiss the back of his hand, blinking at tears. “You guard me. I know you’ll always protect me.”
“But I didn’t. I missed what was happening, what he was doing.” There’s a sheen of tears over his stormy eyes, gray skies and rain. “You’ve been through so much, Iris. You can protect yourself.”
“But when I’m with you, I know I don’t have to.” I lick my lips and taste my own tears, but now they taste like joy.
He traces a tiny scar on my hip that he probably never noticed before he knew about Caleb. The first time we made love after he found out, he asked about every little scar and nick he’d never thought twice about. But each scar told a story, and he wanted to know them all. He kissed all the places Caleb hurt me, and our lovemaking was my perfect revenge. Every soft, tender thing Caleb tried to deny me, I have with August.
“I wish . . .” August gulps, swallowing the emotion alive on his face. “I wish I could take it all away.”
I cup his chin and catch his eyes in the dim light. “We don’t get to take away the bad things, but it’s okay.” My smile is a work of triumph—a victory cry. “I survived them.”
I reach between us and wrap my hand around him, relishing his grunt and gasp, his groan of pleasure as I stroke him long and hard, up and down. “Can we make love now?”
August spears his fingers into my hair, resting his forehead against mine, his breath laboring more with every pull. “I love you, Iris. So much.
I nod, lick his neck, and suck at his collarbone, one hand steadily pumping him between us, the other reaching up to skim over his nipple with my fingertips. All his air expels in one extended breath. With a growl, he grabs my ass and pulls my legs over his knees. I lock my ankles at the small of his back while he brushes my hand away between us. I sink onto him and moan. With our chests flush, his answering groan vibrates between my breasts. He pistons inside me relentlessly.
“August, harder,” I beg, dizzy with pleasure.
With his lip between his teeth, his dark brows furrowed, he goes harder and deeper. He goes so deep he finds the remnants of my pain and soothes them. He goes so hard his love is an undeniable force that takes me by storm. There is room for nothing else. He takes up all the space, consumes my thoughts, and for a moment, remakes our memories so there’s only ever been him for me and only ever been me for him.
It is sublime.
“We should have eatenthis while it was hot,” I say around a bite of not-quite-warm pizza, followed by a sip of tepid root beer.
“I wanted to eat you while you were hot,” August says, his grin cocky.
My laugh bounces off the kitchen walls. “Such a cornball.” I turn toward him on the high stools at the counter until our knees touch.
“And yet here you are.” He laughs, leaning over to brush our noses together in an Eskimo kiss.
“And yet here I am.” I roll my eyes and reach for the slice of untouched pizza on his plate. “You gonna eat that?”
He shakes his head and offers a wry smile. He only grabbed it to make me feel like I wasn’t eating alone. He’s deep in the season and eats like a Spartan solider.
“Thanks for this, by the way.” I pop a pineapple in my mouth. “You remembered.”
He runs a wide palm over my back, his touch warm through my silk robe. “Lakers means pizza and root beer. I told you I remember everything about you.” He lifts my hair and then watches it fall, a small frown pinching at his brows. “So, um, when I was reading to Sarai, she had a question tonight.”
“What’s new?” I laugh and sip my root beer, eyeing him over my bottle.
“Yeah, I know, right?” A tiny smile quirks his full lips, but his eyes are serious before he drops his gaze to the counter. “I was kind of thrown by this one, though.”
“What’d she ask?” I push my pizza away and give him my full attention.
