Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
I looked at him and frowned. “When you snapped at me, I felt so—” I swallowed and tried to blink away the tears, but there were too many, so I quickly wiped them. “I felt so alone,” I whispered. “I f-feel like I’m keeping too many secrets and c-carrying the weight of the w-world on my s-shoulders.” I continued to bat away the tears, but they just kept coming.
“Baby,” he whispered, cupping the back of my head and pulling me into his embrace. “I know lonely, and I know what it feels like to keep secrets and feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. It’s the fucking worst. You are not alone. I had a moment, but I regretted it instantly. I’m so very sorry.” He kissed the top of my head.
Then, he kissed my forehead, cheeks, and lips. I closed my eyes and melted into his embrace, savoring the slow kiss that felt more intimate than any other kiss we had shared. He lifted that weight from my shoulders, reminding me that it was okay to choose myself, even if it was only for three days. Isaac removed my shirt and kissed me again before shrugging off his. Our clothes piled onto the floor one at a time until we were naked on the bed, legs tangled, hands exploring, lips fused.
“I’m so undeserving of you,” he whispered over my skin before kissing the inside of my wrist and up my arm.
His patience gave me chills and aroused me more than I thought possible. He touched me everywhere, only spending short amounts of time at my breasts or teasing his fingertips between my legs as if he was testing the waters.
“Isaac,” I tried to guide his head between my legs without being too obvious.
When he kissed the skin along my hipbone to my navel, I could feel his lips curl into a grin. “What, baby?”
He knew exactly what he was doing to me.
Matt gave me ten seconds of foreplay; Isaac was giving me an eternity.
Finally, he went there.
“Isaac, yesss …” I arched my back and thanked God (He probably plugged his ears). Then I rested my foot on his shoulder as he gripped the back of my knee and gave me a little slice of Heaven that, in the aftermath, would feel like Hell. This time, he brought me to the edge and stopped, crawling up my body, kissing me hard while his fingers teased me, sliding slowly in and out while the wet head of his erection rubbed against my leg.
I clawed at his back when he pulled away, and my neediness made him grin. He was beautiful from head to toe—marked in ink, tan and tone from long days on the ranch. I was shackled with panic and overcome with desire all at the same time. I wanted to have sex with Isaac more than anything, but I wanted to enjoy it.
I couldn’t get Matt out of my head, wondering if it was a fluke, the first-time curse, or if I was broken.
Fitted with a condom, Isaac slid into bed next to me, cupping my face while we kissed again. “Straddle me,” he whispered.
I wasn’t sure about being on top, but I did it anyway. The length of his erection rubbed between my legs.
“Show me how beautiful and sexy you are.” He held his erection until the head of it slid inside of me, and then he guided my hands to my breasts.
Only Isaac could make me feel that safe and confident. Everything he did was to bring me pleasure as I sank completely onto him, and we began to move together. I got to see him lose himself inside of me, unraveling with need and intimate vulnerability.
It wasn’t a race to the end; it was about the moment. Our connection. Everything felt different when I wasn’t trying to lose something or give him something because I thought he’d earned it.
Isaac pistoned his pelvis. “Sarahhh …” He grinned.
I couldn’t believe he was trying to be funny during sex. But I also couldn’t help but match his smile.
Then he sat up, and the humor faded, melting back into desire as we moved together slowly. I realized the thing I felt the most was my heart aching with love. Not the first kind of love with butterflies.
Not the kind that was earned over time, an extension of loyalty.
I loved Isaac in an all-consuming, jumping-off-the-cliff, be-damned-the-consequences sort of way.
“Baby,” he whispered over my lips as I rocked my hips with his in a building rhythm. “I’m okay with dying right here—inside of you.”
His hands tangled in my hair as I orgasmed, and then he kissed me while moving his hands to my hips, encouraging me to keep going. “Sarah.” All his muscles seemed to tense at the same time, sweat beading on his skin, and the most painful yet beautiful expression stole his face.