Page 268 of Broken Saint
My skin burns where we connect, making me even more desperate for her.
I might have only seen the online listing for this house, but I paid enough attention to know where the master bedroom is, and I make a beeline straight toward it.
While the woman in my arms might be my primary focus, my movements falter when I step into the room.
The huge windows that span the opposite wall frame the back deck and the lake beautifully.
“This place is incredible.”
“Not as incredible as you,” I breathe as I kick the door closed behind us and march toward the bed.
Lowering her to the end of it, I drop to my knees and pull her sneakers and socks off before pressing a kiss to the arch of her foot.
“Colt.” My name is barely a whisper on her lips, but I hear it all the way down to my soul.
Reaching for her hands, I pull her to her feet as I stand.
“I love you, Ella Myers,” I tell her before pressing one hand to her stomach and cupping her jaw with the other.
My lips find hers before she gets a chance to respond, and I steal every word she might have to say with my kiss.
It starts sweet, the kind of kiss you’d expect of two people reconnecting after time apart, but it only lasts a few seconds. Because while we might have only been apart a few days, it’s been weeks—long, painful weeks—since we’ve been together, and the recent phone sex has only made me burn hotter and more desperate for my woman.
In minutes, I’ve dragged her t-shirt from her body and I have her jeans undone, ready to be removed.
She hesitates as I slide my hands up her sides before slipping them around her back to undo her bra.
I know why.
Other than that shower at Angie’s, it’s the first time I’ve seen her naked since her relapse. But I couldn’t give a fuck about any changes in her body, big or small. I love her. Every single beautiful inch of her.
My kiss doesn’t falter as I pull the lace from her hips, and she moans as her heavy breasts are freed, although not as loudly as when I replace the fabric with my hands.
“You’re beautiful, Ella. Sexy, gorgeous. Mine. You’re my everything,”
Her surprised squeal rips through the air as I sweep her off her feet once again, but this time, it’s not into my arms. Instead, I flip her onto the bed.
As she bounces, I drag my shirt from my body and shove my pants down my legs, toeing off my shoes as I go.
Once I’m down to my boxers, I reach for her, dragging her jeans off and throwing them behind me as I crawl up her body, placing kisses everywhere I can.
Her scarred thigh, her stomach, her ribs, her breasts, her neck, and finally her lips.
“I’ll never stop worshipping you, Bombshell. And you never have to hide an inch from me.”
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, and the second one slips free, I kiss it away, making her sadness and her struggles mine, too.
I catch her sob with my lips and kiss her as deeply as I possibly can, leaving her no choice but to feel everything I feel. Or at least, that’s my hope, anyway.
Her hands roam up and down my arms, and her legs wrap around my waist, dragging me down on top of her.
My blood boils and my body aches to push inside her, to seal the promise I made her with that ring last week.
Mine.
Ella Myers is mine.
Ripping my lips from hers, I kiss down the slope of her neck and then over her breasts.