Page 47 of Embraced in Ink

He knew this woman. Knew her from the bottom of his soul all the way to hers. He had known they would always be connected, that no matter what happened in the world, they would be together. And they had made sure that they would always have that path to one another. Even if it hadn’t ended up like this. Yet it had brought the two of them here, to this moment in time.

As he filled her, and she cried against him, her hands on him as he struggled not to move, he simply looked at her. And he knew.

No matter what he had told himself, he would have come to this moment.

This would be etched on his soul until the end of his days.

He had been lying to himself when he’d said that it was only a promise to a friend to see what would happen.

He loved Bristol Montgomery. Not as his best friend, not as the other half of his soul, but as a woman that he knew would be part of him forever.

He loved her, and he had no idea if she loved him the way that he needed her to.

But right then, with the feeling of her around his cock and in his heart, he didn’t care.

Because he’d find a way to make that happen.

But first, he had to finish this, needed to complete their connection, and he needed to be with her.

So, he pushed thoughts of what could be out of his mind because he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus if he were worried about the future and placed his mouth on hers. And then he moved.

She was still wearing her bra, her panties pushed to the side, and her shoes digging into his back, and he didn’t care. It was hot as hell, and this was his Bristol. The love of his life.

The only love of his life.

The sweetest lie he had ever told himself.

They made love—because this wasn’t merely fucking anymore, this wasn’t just sex, it was what he had always worried he’d feel if he let himself.

She arched into him, her nails raking down his back, and he plunged deeper, needing more.

“Marcus,” she whispered.

A kiss. A breath. Another kiss. “My Marcus.”

And then he was lost, his mouth on hers as he took in her scream. Her coming around him as he followed her into ecstasy.

His legs shook, and he slammed into her one more time, both of them arching into each other as if they couldn’t get their fill, as if they couldn’t get close enough.

And afterward, he helped her to her feet, and he cleaned her up, leading her to her bathroom so they could shower and make sure she was taken care of. Because that’s who he was.

The man who always cared for her, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. And because she did the same for him.

And then they were in bed, kissing, touching, this time their lovemaking sweeter, softer, as if they had taken off the edge yet needed more.

They didn’t need to speak anymore because they would later, they always had time.

And when she fell asleep in his arms, he held her close and hoped to hell that they wouldn’t run away from this.

Because he had spent the entirety of his life telling himself that he and Bristol Montgomery were great as just friends.

But there was nothing just about the two of them.

This was the woman he loved, the woman that he was going to marry, and the woman that he would make sure he deserved.

He only hoped like hell that he’d develop that plan.

Because as she snuggled into him, he knew he didn’t want this to end.