On My Knees (Page 51)

On My Knees (Bridge #1)(51)
Author: Meredith Wild

“Everything is different now. We’ve changed.”

“We’ve both changed, but a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought of you or wanted this. Most days I wished I’d never met you if it meant taking away what missing you so badly did to me. Believe me, I don’t want to go through that again either, but I can’t get you out of my head.” He hesitated, and the last words lingered. “I love you, Maya. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

My heart beat heavy in my chest. The pressure of his body on mine suddenly robbed me of the ability to breathe properly. His words echoed in the same deep place where I’d buried my ability to love a man, to give both my body and my heart to another person, trusting he’d cherish and protect it. Of all the stupid decisions I’d made in this life, I hoped sleeping with Cameron right now wouldn’t be one of them. I had a hard time saying no to anything I wanted this much, and I’d never wanted anything or anyone more than this.

“The question is do you want me? Do you want this…with me?” A flash of doubt passed over his eyes.

“I do, but I’m scared.” Of falling in love with you all over again. That you’ll leave me again.

My pride kept the confession silent, but my heart ached and swelled, a painful testimony of how deep these feelings for Cameron ran. Except doubt now colored the love I’d once succumbed to in simpler times, with innocence and abandon.

But that didn’t lessen how I wanted him now. Deep down, I wanted to lose myself in this love. I saw it, a tangible earthly thing that I could hold despite its sharp edges, jagged with the shattered pieces of our hearts. I couldn’t deny its compelling force, even knowing how I’d bleed if I let him inside and he hurt me again.

“I’m scared too, but I want you more than I’m scared to lose you again.” His eyes never left mine, never letting me question for a moment his intentions. They were the same eyes that bored into me when he’d asked me to marry him.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight to keep the tears locked out. How could he do this? Break me open with his words. And I came apart so easily.

“Say yes,” he whispered, his breath dancing across my lips.

He laced our fingers, raising my arms high above me. I was powerless, spread for him, a prisoner to the craving. The sharp ache that overtook my senses and better judgment last night was back with a vengeance. I weakened in the possessive embrace, letting the warmth of his body envelop me.

I might have been scared as hell, but every cell of my being wanted to be with Cameron right now. I longed for the slow tease of his lips across my skin, the wild vigor of him thrusting inside of me. I was on fire, and desire was winning.

“Yes.”

Then his lips were on me. Eager and urgent, he took my mouth. I met him fully, surrendering to my choice. My lips tingled, swollen from the passion of his movements.

Awakening stirred through me as his mouth roamed over my shoulder to my neck, nibbling and sucking. I gasped, bowing into his body. The heat of our naked bodies sliding over one another warmed me. A wild fever licked over my flesh everywhere we met. Already, I ached for him. A deep, wet ache that only he could satisfy.

He caught my breast in his hand, squeezing the soft flesh tenderly. He licked over one, then the other, grasping and sucking. I shifted anxiously beneath him, still powerless and pinned.

He released a hand, feathered his fingertips through the folds of my pussy. I gasped, lifting into the motion, eager for his intimate touch.

“You’re ready for me.” His blue eyes were dilated, hooded with lust.

I tightened around an exploring finger teasing my inner flesh. “I need you.” Yes, this was need. We’d surpassed want. I had to have him, even if falling this deep broke me again. Anything seemed worth it.

I reached for him, coaxing his boxers down to reveal his thick, hard erection. I bit my lip, trailing my fingers over the hot flesh. Squeezing him gently, I was overwhelmed with wanting him, the promise of the pleasure he could give me. He kicked his boxers off and leaned over to the bedside table. He ripped open a condom packet and rolled it on. I regretted that we’d have anything between us, but this wasn’t the time I wanted to spend discussing our sexual histories.

Then he was there, notching the head of his cock against me, exactly where I’d wanted him for days. I squirmed, eager to hasten the penetration, but he had my arms bound again, our fingers tightly interlaced. I arched impatiently, hooking my heels into the backs of his thighs to urge him closer. He pressed inside me only by the tip.

“I’ve wanted this”—he exhaled as he pushed in—“for so long.”