My heart constricts at his words, knowing exactly how he feels. Even though we’re used to some distance, this did feel different somehow. Maybe it’s because he’s so close to becoming officially mine, or maybe it’s because I’ve been stressed to the max lately. Either way, I’m not a fan of being away from this man; where he goes, I go.
“Reese,” I whisper across his lips, hearing his breath hitch at the sound of his name.
“I need you,” he proclaims, thrusting forward and entering me in one quick push. I gasp with him, pulling my legs up and wrapping them firmly around his hips. He moves fast and hard, plunging deep then deeper into me. My eyes are locked onto his as he holds himself above me, lunging forward in his perfect rhythm. He whispers his sweet words to me between each drive.
“It’s like Heaven being in you. Tell me you’re mine, Dylan.”
“I’m yours. I always have been.”
“Fucking right.”
I arch my back and press my chest against his, needing the contact. Needing every part of him touching me. I can never get close enough to this man. I want him on me at all times; I crave it. I love the way our bodies fit together, so perfectly and so in tune with each other’s. He drops his head and latches onto my right breast, flicking against my nipple before sucking on it. I groan loudly, loving the way his mouth feels against every part of my body. My eyes go to the inside of his right arm, seeing the words I scrolled on him all those months ago. The fact that he got it tattooed still blows my mind, and every time I look at it, my heart swells. I lean up and press my lips against the words, my words I marked him with. Trailing my tongue across my script, his thrusts pick up, as he slams harder into me. Hearing his loud grunts ring out above me, I glance up and see him pull his bottom lip in and bite it.
“Make me come, Reese.”
Dropping his hand between us, he picks up his movements and brushes against my clit, in the way only he does. He knows exactly what to do with my body, and he does it better than anyone ever could. Not that I have any desire to test that theory; this is the only man I’ll ever want. I’m falling fast, clenching around him and softly chanting his name.
“Dylan,” he growls, crashing his mouth down on mine. I pull his tongue into my mouth and suck on it slowly, swallowing his moans as he gives me his release. Our lips brush against each other’s, tasting and teasing as we both come down from our high. He lifts his head toward the direction of the nightstand.
“Seven days,” he says before looking back down at me. “You know this is hard for me, right? To be this damn close to having the whole world know you’re officially mine.”
I slide along his cheekbone with my fingers, studying his face. “I thought I was the only one struggling out of the two of us. You’re always so quick to silence my quickie-wedding suggestions.”
He shakes his head slightly, leaning into my palm that’s resting flat against his cheek. And then I see it: the shift in his eyes, the possessive, hungry glare he does so well. “It fucking kills me to wait, but I want this to be perfect for you. I don’t ever want you to regret the way you gave yourself to me, and I’ll have no problem moving that preacher along. That ceremony will be brief.”
I laugh softly before planting a kiss on his jaw. “I love you,” I murmur against his skin.
He drops his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. “I love you.”
He always says it like that when I say it first. It’s never I love you, too. Never. It’s as if he’s stating it as a fact, not giving me an automated response to my declaration. The way Reese says ‘I love you’, I feel it more than I hear it.
He lets his weight press me firmly into the mattress as he collapses down on top of me, tucking his head next to mine. “Seven days,” he whispers, and I barely make it out. It’s as if those words are just for him, the reassurance he gives himself.
I kiss his shoulder and hold him against me, not wanting him to move. I could wake up with the worst cramp in the morning, but this closeness would be worth it. I press my lips to his ear. “We got this. Seven days is nothing.”
And with those final words, I feel his body relax.
6
I feel the bed move and hear the soft creaking sound of the mattress. Peeking one eye open, I see the back of Reese as he sits on the end of the bed, facing the bathroom. He’s shirtless, his broad back covered in tiny water droplets. His hair is wet and fuckably messy and his scent is overwhelming me, blanketing me and causing me to purr as I stretch. At the sound of my noise, he turns his head and lets his eyes roam freely over my body, which is barely covered in the white sheet.
“You are impossibly beautiful. Do you know that?”
I hold my hands out, reaching for him. He drops the towel he is holding and crawls toward me in a pair of shorts, settling on his side and pulling me against his chest.
“You showered without me,” I state as I press soft kisses to his chest.
“I had to. Ian and I went for a run.”
I lean back to look into his face. “You’re that disciplined to work out on vacation?” My eyes take in his hard body, and I realize the absurdity of that question. “Never mind. Look at you. The term ‘rest day’ is not a part of your vocabulary.” A knock on the door prompts Reese to grab the sheet and cover me up to my neck.
“Hold on,” he yells over his shoulder.
He shifts quickly and straddles my waist, moving his hands along the side of my body and tucking me in burrito style. I squirm underneath him. “Reese, I could’ve just grabbed a T-shirt.”