Every Minute I Love You (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 3) by Kailee Reese Samuels

Author:Kailee Reese Samuels [Samuels, Kailee Reese]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781947362765
Publisher: The Sugargrove Book Company
Published: 2019-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

47

Fresh New Hands

The one lamp post pours light into the sheer curtains in his bedroom. The furniture is sparse, but the ornate queen wrought iron bed frame belonged to his father. He brought it up from New Orleans, where there is an entire warehouse full of antiques from Victor Cruz’s house. His ma contends he was conceived in this very bed.

“Stop hesitating!” I scold as my sweaty hands grip onto the edge of the bed. We are sprawled out across the middle, from side to side. “Do it!”

“We haven’t done this in ages,” he rebukes, fingering my puckered hole. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Who is the pussy now?”

“Me,” he admits. “I am. I can’t do any of this without you.”

“Fine,” I say, rolling over to my back and spreading my thighs. “Fuck my ass this way. Wait…what are you talking about?”

He falls to his hands, hovering over me, and kissing my lips. “I mean I bought this place because I thought you would love it. I don’t know how to do all of this.”

Stroking his dick slow, I mutter, “You bought me a kingdom between Little Bee and Sugargrove?”

“Yeah,” he coaxes. “I did.”

“Did you think I would be coming home?”

“It’s time,” he says, running his fingers through my hair. “You need to get the fuck out of this farce with Em because it’s killing you. Think of all the shit you’ve done since being in Boston. You aren’t you anymore but some hollowed out version of a Sal we all once knew and loved. You’re a shell.”

“… A Sal shell?”

“Yeah.” We both laugh and fall into a tangle of limbs and sheet. We’re blazing hot with a fiery core once again, only this time I don’t think either one of us want to extinguish the volatile inferno. I feel the steady rock of his hips as my erection presses against his belly. “Just come home to me, baby.”

Shit.

“The hell you say,” I mutter as the agony brings a gasp from my lips. My heart radiates with a deep savage pain. I can’t lose him again. “Say it again.”

“Just come home to me, Sir.”

My cock throbs. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re broken. Those sad blue eyes tie a noose around every piece of me. And you lure me in. Roll over, bitch.” I don’t have to tell him how I need his head down and ass up. Smacking his ass cheek hard with my hand, I contend, “I need this.”

“It’s yours—all of it,” he mumbles against the sheet as I fire off another pop against his ass. I nudge my dick closer to his exit and know this is the line we have drawn. If I ingest this moment, I won’t recover my addiction to Deacon Cruz ever again. He isn’t the mountain but the drop into the abyss, and I must trust he will catch my fall.

After years of traversing the cataclysmic topography together, we arrive at the foot of the nefarious gate. We will march, side by side up the steep, rocky incline, and plunge to our death.

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