All of Me (Confessions of the Heart 2) - Page 92

Energy ricocheted through the tiny room.

Bounding.

Gaining momentum with each rock of his hips and every tremble of my body.

His other hand slipped around to find that sweet spot that instantly lit.

Fireworks.

Rockets.

I was burning alive.

Unsure I could take it. Needing more. My head swished back and forth, and I gripped tighter as the man possessed me.

Owned me.

I guessed he’d owned me all along.

Shivers raced my flesh, and I was shaking.

Shaking and shaking and shaking.

So close. So close. I couldn’t take any more.

“Come for me, sweet girl. Let go. Let me see how perfect you are. Show me that you love feeling me this way. So lost in me that you don’t know where you end and I begin. Tell me it’s only me. It’s only me. Tell me you’ll never forget what this felt like. You and me.”

“It’s you. It’s you, I’ll never forget.” I was whimpering frantically, the last word floating away as everything gathered at my center.

A ball of pleasure.

A pinpoint of ecstasy.

A burst of light.

And I was shooting.

Falling.

Somewhere in the sun.

In the clouds.

Weightless.

Ian jutted and his thighs shook, his rough grunts taking to the dense atmosphere. “You’re mine, Grace. I don’t care if you can’t be. In my mind, you’ll always be mine.”

Both of us were lost in this wilderness.

No hope of safe passage.

Crashing in the middle.

He came, the feel of him pulsing inside me so overwhelming that tears sprang to my eyes. Reckless, reckless, reckless.

With him, I had no other idea how to be.

I couldn’t keep him.

I couldn’t keep him.

We’d both be ruined if someone found out.

This beautiful mess we were in was breaking every societal rule. The oath he’d made as an attorney.

He was in a position of influence over me. And God . . . I felt influenced. The man holding me in the palms of his hands.

I wanted to turn around and kiss him and hang on and never let go.

My name was nothing but a deep, guttural moan from his plush lips.

He slowly pulled out, and I slumped over the table, keeping my face hidden.

Because the last thing I wanted him to see was the evidence of what was written there.

He leaned over me, panting, gasping for air, the words so rough when he murmured them at my ear. “I’m losing myself, Grace, and that’s the one thing I can’t do with you.”

Twenty-Five

Ian

Heart hammering, I tried to catch my breath. To reel in this goddamned feeling that was speeding out of control. I could feel it thundering through the space, bounding against the closed in walls.

I wanted to hold her. Wrap her up and tell her this would all be okay.

That I was going to protect her and her kids. That’s what I needed to do.

What I needed to focus on.

Protecting her and her kids.

Instead, I’d completely slipped.

Lost all fucking control.

Needing to possess her. Some place in my mind had snapped when I’d driven away from that apartment building. Too much shit twisted up in my mind, memories coming at me fast, ghosts bringing up the rear.

Felt like I’d been being hunted on every side.

My first instinct had been to come here. Seeking out her comfort. Desperate for a touch of that soothing grace.

Knowing with just a look, she would take away some of what was haunting me.

We weren’t supposed to end up in this room.

Not like this.

Treading dangerous, dangerous waters.

Every touch, and I was putting her at risk.

Putting myself at risk.

Everything I’d ever wanted.

Everything I’d worked my ass off for.

Lived for.

This woman was forbidden. Off-limits. On top of that, she represented everything I didn’t want.

She had three kids, for God’s sake.

Three fucking kids.

I gulped around that meteor that was still crashing to Earth.

On a heavy exhale, I turned and took two steps across the confined space to the sink. I washed my hands, grabbed a white hand towel from the folded stack in the cupboard, and ran it under warm water.

I fisted it over my dick, cleaning myself, hissing as I did, sensation still racing out of control.

Then I stuffed myself back into my pants, zipped up, and fastened my button and buckle, trying to figure out when I had completely spiraled.

Seeking pleasure. Willing to do anything for another taste of it.

I grabbed a fresh towel and ran it under the water, pulling in a deep breath because God knew I needed some clarity before I could turn back around and look at her.

No use.

Because my pulse spiked, and my stomach twisted when I turned. The girl had pushed up to sitting, wearing this cream-colored, tufted dress that she was attempting to get back down around her waist, that blonde hair mussed, her gaze unsure and timid and still full of all that courage that she possessed.

Sexy as all fuck.

Beautiful, inside and out.

A battered Cinderella.

My broken angel.

And there I went, breaking her more. Tainting all that goodness and trust that oozed from her skin.

Tags: A.L. Jackson Confessions of the Heart Romance
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