chapter TWENTY-NINE

Grace

My heart is thundering against my chest. Not because of fear. Not because of insecurities. But because of my eagerness to be touched by Nix’s hands, to be kissed by his lips, and to be slowly and sweetly owned by him.

I love this man with all my soul, with every facet of my heart. I hang on to his calming browns, matching the love in them and the need flowing out of them. His glorious nakedness and manhood make every cell in my body cry in an unknown, hungry need.

When he finally pulls the guitar off me, I control the urge to cover myself. His soft browns turn dark as he feasts on my bareness. While he peruses every inch of me, my heart beats wildly.

When I am close enough to be touched, his fingers glide along my ankles and up my calves before stopping on my knees. Both hands clamp on my shaky knees and slowly pull them apart, exposing me completely to him. And I surrender, offering myself to the man I promised forever to.

He leans closer, gliding his tongue along the edge of my lips. Finally, he captures them in a smoldering kiss, and I shudder in delight. My lips release his as a soft moan escapes me when his heated skin melds with my own. Instinctively, I slide my legs open, cradling his hips.

He blows on my nipple before sucking it with an intense hunger. I cry out in ecstasy. My head falls when he squeezes my other breast, but my back arches for more when he pinches my nipple.

As soon as he releases my nipple with a pop, I whimper in disappointment. Seconds later, I sigh with contentment, and yearning soon fills the air when his tongue slowly glides along the valley of my breasts.

“I need you,” he proclaims before capturing the other.

I squeeze his hips once again, and my fingers find refuge in his hair. I pull him closer, staving off a mewl that would make the nuns in the convent pray for hours.

Nix somehow—magically, I think—finds a way to squeeze his hand in between our glued skin to touch me in my most sensitive part. That part of me where no one has ever been and no one else ever will. His finger teases, circles, and presses against that small and hidden gem, and in a matter of seconds, I am writhing in pure, carnal pleasure. A pleasure I have never, ever felt before but will continue to beg for from here on out.

“I need your touch,” I confess breathlessly.

Gently, he pulls my fingers off his hair, kissing the inside of my wrist and then the other. Slowly, he twines our fingers together and rests them on either side of my head. He gazes into my eyes with all the reverence of love he has for me, and I return it with the same strength.

“I love you,” he whispers lovingly against my lips.

“I love you, too.” My breathless answer reveals my need.

He smiles and takes my lips hostage once more. As his tongue joins with mine in passionate swirls and tender sucking, my hips begin to naturally move on their own.

My grip on his hands tightens when I feel him enter me inch by painful inch. I close my eyes shut while returning his hungry kisses. Ignoring the urge to squeeze on his hips, I welcome each gentle thrust.

“Oh…” A moan escapes me again as he releases my lips and begins to suck on my breast.

The harder he sucks, the stronger each thrust becomes, and the stronger my need intensifies. He releases my left hand as his right slithers down the side of my breast and along the curve of my hip. He throws my left leg over his shoulder and then slowly begins to play with—

“Oh, Nix…” Another mewl echoes in the dark.

His finger mercilessly strums my needy nub while he pleasantly, relentlessly pushes inside me.

“Grace,” he calls out my name like a promise.

With his hand in sync with his every thrust and his lips alternately sucking and biting my nipple, my body is overwhelmed by sexual sensation. The unknown, unfamiliar sensual release comes agonizingly yet deliciously slow. Until it hits a crescendo.

The ultimate peak.

It sends my body in an uncontrollable passion-filled, earth-shattering climax.

Just as my body begins to relax, Nix’s tempo picks up. He buries his face against my neck. Lovingly nipping against my slick skin.

“Cum again, Grace…with me…”

I finally open my eyes when I hear the need in his voice. The ache for him begins to burn inside me again.

How is this even possible?

A gasp escapes my lips each time he hits a spot that makes my body sing. His body moves in an erotic motion with mine as we search for our sensuous release together. My fingers find purchase on the damp sheet while Nix rests his elbows on either side of my head and cradles my cheeks with his palms.

Gazing into my eyes, he plants a kiss on my lips. “I end with you…always with you.”

The look of love in his eyes paired with his words fills my heart, and I shudder underneath him while his body spasms above me. His eyes lovingly hold mine as we wait for the tremors to slowly subside.

Giving my lips another peck, he asks, “How was it for you?”

I cup his cheeks, returning his kiss. “It was how I imagined it would be. Tender and sweet. It was as strong as my needs…”

Nix strokes my cheek and then asks, “What is the title of that song?”

“‘Lover of My Soul’ by Amy Grant.”

“Hmmm, that song fired me up. It made me want you more, and it broke me at the same time.”

I look away as shyness overtakes me. He holds my chin, raises his brow, and dares me to say something.

I raise my own brow, confidently saying, “You – Mr. Hayes – broke my vagina.”

He starts to laugh until he’s shaking on top of me. “I can’t believe this. You gotta stop talking to Mama and Rachel, babe.” He playfully glares at me. “But, if you must…you need to use pussy instead of vagina.”

I swat his arm. “Stop! No more vagina talk, okay?” I hold his head steady. “I love that song. It’s our song. When I lost my parents, I kept telling myself that surely God has a plan for me. I just have to believe.”

Nix gifts me with a small smile. A sheen of understanding twinkles in his eyes.

“I was so scared…so lost…so much like you, but I hung on to him for strength. I let my faith grow until I began to believe that, somehow, someone would love me as much as my parents did…as much as he loved me enough to die for me. And then you entered my life, and now, we’re here.”

He doesn’t answer and instead only kisses me sweetly.

We share a few innocent kisses.

A few meaningful touches.

Soft murmurs of sweet nothings.

Until we fall into our rhythm of love once again.

My heart sends a heartfelt thank-you to the author of my life who sent me my saving grace—Phoenix Hayes.