Keeping Her Warm by Riley Alexa

Keeping Her Warm by Riley Alexa

Author:Riley, Alexa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-01T05:00:00+00:00


8

Catherine

“I need to feed you,” Cole says. I’m lying on his chest and he is playing with my hair. He has some sort of fascination with it. I shake my head and latch on to him harder. I am hungry but I don’t want to move. Not yet anyway. “Baby, you need to eat.”

“We will. Just a little longer. I don’t want to move yet,” I admit. I love when he calls me baby. Every time he says it butterflies take flight in my stomach. I love the feeling. He only grunts a response, which makes me smile. I don’t know why, but when he grunts it makes my core clench. I love the sound.

I think I love him. I’m not really sure because I don’t think I know what love is, but whatever he is making me feel makes me think this might be it. I don’t want to let him go. The things he whispered to me when we made love almost made me cry. No one has ever said such sweet things to me before.

My eyes water as I think about it and a tear slips free, running down my cheek, and it hits his chest. Cole’s stops moving.

“Baby, are you crying?” I look up at him. He moves before I can stop him. His body comes over me, caging me in. His eyes are filled with concern.

“You said I was beautiful.” The words rush out.

“You’re more than beautiful. You’re perfect.”

My cheeks heat at that. “That blush.” He moves against me, and his hard cock rubs against my clit. I wiggle under him. I loved being connected to him when we had sex. I've never felt so close to someone in my whole life. As if we were one.

Cole growls, getting up from the bed and bringing me with him, putting me on my feet. He walks over to his closet and I’m disappointed when he comes out with a pair of jeans on. They aren't buttoned and my eyes follow the trail of hair that disappears beneath the waistband. I can't stop looking at him. He’s all man. I’ve never seen someone built like him before. Even the scarring on his shoulder makes him even more masculine somehow. Like a warrior who has gone to battle and won.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he says, closing the distance between us. He slides a shirt over my head. This one falls almost to my knees as well. It’s another army shirt.

“Did you get this in the army?” I ask as I touch the scar on his shoulder. I know he’d gotten medals, that he’d come home because of an injury, and I’m thinking this is that injury.

He flinches. “Got it when I was a Ranger.”

“Sorry,” I say, dropping my hand, but he grabs it and brings it to the scar.

“Not used to people seeing it or touching it.” His voice drops a little. “You can touch it, baby. You can touch me anywhere you want. I’d hate to think I couldn't touch you anywhere I wanted.



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