Chapter Eight
She had missed this. The way he held her still underneath his body as he pumped himself into her. The way their bodies rubbed together, sweat glistening on their skin as they shifted in the moonlight. The way she tightened around him, as if their bodies were puzzle pieces meant to find one another, again and again and again…
Lauren called out Marc’s name as he hit a particularly sensitive spot deep inside of her, her nails scoring raised pink lines across his back as he held himself against her, grinding slow and deliberate as he prolonged the sensation. Lauren felt like sobbing, it was so good. It was so much better than she remembered; so much sweeter.
“Open your eyes,” Marc growled and Lauren startled; she hadn’t even realized that she’d closed them. When she locked gazes with him again, she found something in Marc’s gaze that she tried not to allow herself to hope for. But it was clear as day. Clear as it had ever been. And the very sight made her break, his name tripping off of her lips like a mantra.
Marc followed shortly after her, pounding as fast and hard as his hips would go, trying to coax Lauren into another orgasm to follow on the heels of the last—and succeeding, at that. When he finally spilled into her, Lauren took delight in his shout of her name, then the slight, incomprehensible murmurs as his body relaxed over hers, covering her like a blanket.
She let him, happily wrapping her arms and legs around his body to pull him closer. As the pleasure began to wear off, the panic that he might leave started to replace it and she didn’t want that to happen. Not again. She didn’t know if she could survive it.
As if reading her mind, Marc began to rise, prying her hands from his body. Lauren couldn’t stop the tears from streaming out the corners of her eyes. She turned her head in the hopes that he wouldn’t see, biting her lip as her chin quivered, her hands curling against her chest as she tried to hide herself from his suddenly intrusive gaze.
But then Marc’s hands were reaching for her, pulling her up into his strong arms and holding her, bridal-style, his lips pressed to her forehead as he carried her to the bed. Marc laid Lauren down on the place where he’d pulled back the covers, tucking her in, then himself, and turning their bodies until he was spooning her, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist.
“You’re mine,” he said, his voice full of a possession that might have terrified her if she didn’t know the man currently pressed against her body. He wasn’t Jack. He wouldn’t hurt her. He loved her; she knew it implicitly now. She could feel it spreading, like warmth, from his fingertips; felt it in the way he kissed her and whispered her name into her ear. The way he nuzzled her ear with the tip of his nose.
The callouses on his thumb rubbed just under her breasts, soothing her beating heart as she came down from her orgasmic high, her heavy eyelids lowering until she was almost asleep. As she drifted off, Lauren could swear she heard those three little words fall from his lips, making her heart sing as sleep finally took her.
When she woke up, hours later, he was gone. There was a note on his pillow, along with single seashell.
Lauren,
I had to get back to New York, but I want you to know that this is not over. Not by a long shot. The court date has been set and that’ll be the next time I’ll see you. I’m doing everything I can to put him away. And I will.
No matter what.
Love,
Marc
She ran her fingers over the last two words; eight letters that settled in her heart and took root. A smile spread across her lips as she laid back on her bed, gripping the flower in her hand. It was a carnation—her favorite—and she wondered where he’d gotten it. Perhaps, he’d had it last night when she’d found him in her living room. She hadn’t given him much room for speaking, she thought with a smile.
When she did finally rise from the bed, Lauren found herself aching from her activities last night. It was another thing she missed from her time with him; another thing that brought a smile to her lips. She practically limped from her bedroom into the kitchen, where there was already coffee brewing. She wondered how long it had been since he left…
Emma was laid out in the sun coming in through the sliding glass doors, her tail wagging lazily, spilling a few flecks of sand on the back doormat. Lauren gave her a pat on the head and the retriever rolled over, exposing her belly. Her master laughed and sat down next to her, scratching the dog’s belly as she leaned against the wall. She brought the carnation up to her nose and inhaled, smiling sweetly.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she could finally breathe easily.
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