“I could stare at you all day.”
“Stop staring and start?—”
I gasped as he dove headfirst into my pussy, spearing me with his tongue and moaning as he got his first taste in months. Helicked and sucked, devouring every inch of me like a man starved.
In a way, I guess he had been.
He alternated between slow licks from bottom to top with the flat of his tongue where he paused, sucking my swollen clit in little pulses that had me writhing.
“Oh, god, Chase. I’m so close. I need?—”
He didn’t need me to tell him. He already knew everything I needed. He’d spent months learning my body, and he hadn’t forgotten a thing while we’d been apart.
He slipped two fingers inside me easily, pumped them in and out, curled them just the right way while never letting up on the delicious suction on my clit.
His other hand slid up the outside of my thigh, past my hip, under my shirt, and gently caressed my pregnant belly. The intimate touch combined with the erotic dedication he was showing my pussy had every part of my body clenching. A scream ripped from my throat as warm wetness gushed between my legs and such immense pleasure rocketed through me, I drifted into outer space.
I heard a muttered, “Oh fuck yes,” as I moaned, chanted his name, and swore through what had to have been the longest, most intense orgasm of my life.
When I finally floated back down to planet Earth, Chase was lying on his side next to me, a smile stretching across his face and a soothing hand rubbing my stomach.
I blinked up at him.
“I made you squirt.” His grin was so triumphant and boyish that a laugh bubbled up and out of me. “How do you feel?”
“Good?”
He cocked a brow at my questioning tone.
“Good. Tired.”
Chase moved to stand, and I whined. “Where are you going?”
Who is this needy woman and where the hell is Elena Ventura?
“To get you some water. I’ll be right back.” He pressed a kissed to my forehead, and I closed my eyes.
In the few minutes he was gone, I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes again, he was shifting me up the bed, gently laying me down on the pillows and gathering the rumpled blankets to cover me.
“Are you staying?” I asked on a yawn.
His brow furrowed, and he looked so torn.
“It’s fine. You don’t have?—”
“I want to,” he said. “Drink.” He handed me a glass of water, and I sat up, gulping the entire glass down as I watched him peel the henley off his back then unzip and shuck his jeans. He stood before me, hard cock straining against his gingerbread-print boxer briefs.
My eyes bulged. “Are those gingerbread cookiesfucking?”
He waggled his eyebrows while I giggled as he slipped under the covers next to me.
Last year, I was bleeding and alone. This year, I was safe. Warm. Loved. And never sleeping alone again.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
CHASE
Now, December 2024
