Page 122 of A Dark Fall
It takes me a moment to find a voice. “I do understand.”
When he looks satisfied I do, he nods and gestures for me to turn back around. As terrifying as it was to hear it, to understand it, there’s so much strength in what he’s saying. I don’t think I’ve known anyone who talks with as much conviction about things as Jake does. Who is so certain about the things he wants, about how he feels.Thesethings he’s always been open with me about. It’s everything else he keeps to himself. Maybe now I’m only beginning to understand why.
So, this is the man I love. A strong, fiercely protective man who does what he needs to do. Who protects the people he loves.
He slides his arms around and pulls me into his embrace. “Good. Because you’re one of the things I care about, Alex,” he whispers as he kisses the top of my head.
Sunday morning breakfast in bed with him is everything I always wanted it to be. The papers scattered across the duvet, the breakfast tray between us, both of us well-rested and half-naked. It’s picture-bloody-perfect. He is anyway.
After I gave him directions to Ken’s bakery, he went out for croissants and the papers while I brewed the coffee and prepared a tray with marmalade, butter, and the remainder of yesterday’s strawberries. They need to be eaten today because I left them out of the fridge last night while he fucked me on the stairs.
He’s examining the sports insert of The Guardian while I read through the rest of the paper. I say “read,” but really, I’m watching him read while I absently flick through the pages pretending to read. Is this how our Sundays will look from now on? Him reading the sports pages looking gorgeous and sleepy like he does now? He’s sitting up, resting back against the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankles while he blows gently on his black coffee without milk or sugar.
As I break a piece of croissant off and pop it into my mouth, a loud sigh of pure contentment leaves my chest. He lifts his head and smiles at me before dropping his eyes back to the paper and whatever it’s telling him about the state of the Premiere League.
“Must be a really interesting article you’re reading there,” he says without looking around. The side of his mouth quirks up into a half-smile.
“Oh, it is.” I nod.
“What’s it about?” He turns his head to me and brings his coffee to his mouth as he places the paper down on his lap.
“Avocados.”
“Sounds fucking riveting.” He smiles.
“Mmm, it is. But not quite as riveting as you.”
His eyes glow, and my tummy swoops because it knows what that look in his eye means. It reacts accordingly because it wants the same thing. He’s always looked at me in that same intense way. As if he wants to consume me whole. And I’ve always been more than happy to let him, it seems.
I lean across the bed and kiss him on the side of the mouth, flicking my tongue across his plump bottom lip.
“You had marmalade on your face,” I lie. Of course, he didn’t—he’s the neatest eater I’ve ever seen. I just want my mouth somewhere, anywhere on his skin.
He smiles and moves his mouth back to mine, grazing his lips over mine before sliding his tongue into my mouth and groaning softly. When he pulls back, he runs his tongue around the inside of his mouth and across his lips.
“Strawberries.” He nods. “You tasted like strawberries last night too. Good memories.” His tone is warm like the look in his eyes.
I sigh. “Yes ... Our careless lovemaking on the stairs.”
He slides the breakfast tray out of the way and places his coffee on the nightstand then moves across the bed. He climbs over my body and pins me partly beneath him.
“I told you not to worry about it. I’m squeaky-clean, and I know you are, and if you’re on the pill then we’re all good.” He dips his head to kiss me.
My body stiffens slightly. It doesn’t mean we’re “all good” at all. It means I should get the morning-after pill to be on the safe side.
“Okay, I’m not worrying,” I lie, fixing him with my shy, proper smile.
He nods and pushes his hips into me. “Good. So, how about we be careless again right now?” He lowers his head and begins to kiss a trail down my neck to my chest, causing the tops of my thighs to vibrate and tingle. “You know, since the damage is already done.” He moans while he draws his tongue between my breasts, untying my silk robe with his free hand. When his hand skims over my belly and he slides it between my thighs, my body arches up off the bed. The fact I want to be careless with him again right now proves what I’ve always known: he is a bad influence on me.
“As tempting as you are,” I pant, “I think that would be less careless and more ... Christ ...”—his finger teases my sensitive spot—“that would be more like completely idiotic ... so, no ...” I close my eyes and slide my hand into his hair as his mouth reaches my belly button, which he circles with his tongue.
“Mmm, are you sure? Fuck, it felt good ...” He slides his finger inside me and moves his head lower until I feel his wet tongue against my slit. He opens me with his finger and slides his tongue inside while I gasp and buck against his mouth. “Your tight little cunt clenching against my cock when you came.” He makes a low, filthy noise as my eyes fly open.
I lean up on my elbows to stare down at him speechless, cheeks burning. He peers up at me with that wicked look on his face as he presses his lips to the skin above my pubic bone.
“Seriously? How on earth do you get away with saying things like that?”
“Because I’m a sexual deviant?”