She dropped down to the bed, propping her head on the pillows and spreading her legs for me. I fisted my cock at the sight of her pussy.
She curled her finger. "Come here."
I was helpless to say no, dropping a knee to the bed and moving between her legs. I was supposed to savor this moment, taste her one more time, but I was desperate to be inside her after that little strip tease.
I lined my cock up with her entrance and slid inside. It felt like coming home. The love for her poured out of me and into her. But I couldn't say any of the words out loud. It wasn't the right time.
She had to come to me. She had to tell me how she felt. Only then would I share that I felt the same way. I still wasn't sure where her head was at, probably back in Jacksonville, reclaiming the life she'd left behind.
I braced my forearms on either side of her head, interlacing my fingers with hers. Then I began to move, slowly and deliberately through her slick channel. Nothing had ever felt like this before. I was overwhelmed with the emotions bubbling to the surface. I was in love with this woman, probably had been since we were eighteen, and I was letting her go again.
It might not be the right decision, but I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to push her into something. She'd just come out of a serious relationship where the man had cheated on her.
She wasn’t ready for something deep and lasting. Or at least, that's what I told myself as my brain warred with my body. Did she know how I felt? Did she feel the same?
She grabbed my neck and pulled my mouth down to hers, blocking out the worries. All that mattered was being here in her arms one last time.
I moved slowly, building us up with each pass. I ground my pelvis against her clit, needing her to feel the same level of intensity that I did.
When she stiffened, I increased my thrusts, needing her to go over first. Then she cried out my name, and I memorized the cadence on her lips.
I never wanted to forget this moment.
She trembled and shook beneath me when I thrust one more time deep, wishing this was the beginning of our future together, not the end.
We were destined to be pulled apart, never to meet at the right time. I breathed through the crushing knowledge of that.
I rolled to the side, and she followed me, draping her body over mine. Her cheek was pressed against my chest just above my heart, which was still racing out of control.
"I'm going to miss you," she repeated.
"It's going to suck." I couldn't think of a nicer way to say it. This entire situation was awful. Tomorrow, I'd say goodbye to my daughter and the love of my life. It couldn't get any worse than that.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Saylor
I didn't sleep well. I felt Marshall's steady breath, but I couldn't seem to let go. I tossed and turned, unsure how much shut-eye I actually got. When the sun finally rose, I was ready to take a shower, pack, and get this day over with.
There was no easy way to say goodbye, so I'd need to plaster on a neutral face and get it done.
I slipped out from under Marshall's arm, grabbing the clothes I'd set out the night before, and jumped in the shower. I left the door unlocked, hoping Marshall would join me, but at the same time, I knew I needed to create distance between us.
If I didn't have space, I had a feeling I'd ask if I could live in this house with him forever, and that wasn't a possibility. This was a temporary rental for him. He was buying a beach house for him and his daughter.
He'd purposely left that possibility of moving to Naples open. Even if I decided I should stay, he wouldn't necessarily be here.
I let the hot water flow over me, washing away the exhaustion. I wasn't ready to face the day, but I was done with the seemingly endless night.
I closed my eyes, tipping my face into the stream of water, wishing I never had to leave when I felt a hard body press against my back.
Marshall slowly turned me so that we faced each other, squeezing body wash onto his hands, gently soaping my body. He took his time getting every inch, then shampooed my hair, giving me a lovely scalp massage.
The gentleness in his touch had tears springing to my eyes. This was the longest goodbye ever, and I wasn't sure I was going to make it through.
When he was done rinsing my hair, he said, "Go ahead and dry off. I need to wash up."
I stepped out of the shower, grabbing the fluffy white towel and wrapping my body in the softness. Our time together had come to an end. His washing me was his way of saying goodbye, just like the way we'd made love last night. I breathed through the tightness in my throat.
