Until You Believe: Book 4 in the Until You Series by D.M. Davis

Author:D.M. Davis [Davis, D.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: An Until You Novel, BOOK FOUR
Publisher: D.M. Davis
Published: 2020-07-27T16:00:00+00:00

“Margot?” The rasp of his voice has tears burning my eyes.

I tried. I thought maybe if I undressed and just turned around and showed him—got it over with—he wouldn’t care, and we could move on. But I chickened out. I’m not brave like him. Like Sam. Like every other person in the world.

He said he’s a coward for leaving my bed that morning. Well, I’m a coward every day of my life. I hide behind my personality. I’ve been doing it so long, I’m not even sure who the true Margot is. Am I that bubbly person? Or am I this person who just wants to fall to the floor and cry?

I swipe at a tear and go to him. Ignoring the concern on his face or the tears that continue to fall, I pull his head to my chest. He ensconces me in his warm embrace between his legs, his arms, around my back. His hold is just tight enough to feel the fierceness of his worry.

Kissing his head, I give him my truth. “I’m so tired, Finley. I don’t want to talk about it… I can’t… I’m not ready.”

With no hesitation, he replies, “Okay,” and pulls back enough to lift his gaze to mine. “What do you need, Marguerite?”

That’s easy. “I need you to fill me up, let me fall asleep in your arms, and still be here when I wake up.” A defiant tear falls.

He brushes it away with his lips. “My sweet girl, I got you.”

His words warm me more than they should.

In a graceless dance, I help him undress. My need makes my fingers stupid and my breathing haggard the closer I get to feeling him inside me again. Finally naked, he slips off my panties and, without a word from me, he doesn’t even attempt to remove my sleep shirt.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he lifts me to straddle his lap. We both moan when his cock nestles between my folds. I dig my fingers into his hair and bend to kiss his mouth, but his hold on the back of my neck stops me from making contact.

“You’re on top, Pixie, but I’m in control. Understand?”

I say, “Yes,” when really, I want to thank him. I don’t know how he knows what I need. But being at his mercy, the recipient of the pleasure he brings, is exactly what I need to knock the uncertainty away, to still the riotous thoughts, to find my center again. Even if it is a fake, bubbly persona… Or not.

“We’re going to go slow.” He bites and sucks my bottom lip. “You’re going to want to go fast and hard.” His fingers dig into my rear, gliding me against him. “But that’s not what you need right now.” He kisses and sucks my chin. “Trust me?”

With my life. “Yes, I trust you.”

He seals my agreement with a deviously slow and succulent kiss. His hands move up my sides over my shirt, his thumbs finding my nipples. I shudder, and he pulls back.

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