He cupped my jaw and tilted my head up to look at him. “My little peacock. I gotta keep a close eye on you, but just when I think you’re being mean with your jabs, you transform into something so beautiful, my brain just can’t keep up.”
My eyes started burning, a reaction so stupid to a backhanded compliment I could barely stand myself, but it meant that Titus really understood me. Loved me for who I was, faults and all. I ran at the mouth way too often and was often a hard-ass when some sensitivity would do better, but he saw beneath all that to the marshmallow center of me. He accepted me for me, as only a best friend can.
Titus’s grip tightened. “Are you crying?”
I scrunched up my nose. “No, of course not.” I sniffled and my voice shook. “My eyeballs are just floating.”
Titus chuckled, kissing me mid-laugh, pulling me firmly into his body. His lips coaxed my mouth open and his tongue darted inside. Not one ounce of me held back or played hard to get. This wasn’t a relationship built on games or bullshit pretenses. This was the most real thing in my life, and just as I dove headfirst into trouble, I’d dive headfirst into love with Titus.
He pulled me down onto the bed, his long body pressing me into the covers and his heavy cock settling between my thighs. His lips trailed down my neck before breaking away. His long arm reached for the nightstand where I kept a box of condoms. I stilled his movement.
“No. Not anymore. Just you and me, okay?”
Titus hovered over me in a flash, his eyes looking wild and unfocused. “You sure?”
I nodded quickly. “I’ve never been with anyone without…” I trailed off, knowing he’d understand what I was saying. The gravity of trust I placed in him.
“Me neither.” He swallowed hard, but didn’t move, other than to catch my lips in a sweet kiss, his muscles trembling from his body hovering over me.
He took his time, his kiss unhurried, the roll of his tongue and the nip of his teeth a lazy stroll instead of a galloping race. When my head felt ready to fly up into the clouds from his kiss alone, he shifted, kissing my cheek and then a spot below my chin. His kiss moved to my clavicle and then between my breasts.
“What are you doing?” I breathed, liking it but wondering what was up with the jump-scotch kisses routine.
“Shh,” he muttered, moving to kiss me again on my stomach. “I’ve decided kissing every single mole of yours is my goal for today.”
My brain sparked and fizzled, desperately trying to remember if I happened to have a mole on my clit. Was it even possible to have a mole there? “Girls don’t have moles. They have freckles,” I told him. Damn, my mouth just would not shut up.
He raised his eyebrows at me, his mouth so close to my happy place I could feel his breaths fanning the flames my sassy mouth was probably dousing. I made the motion of zipping my lips and throwing away the key. His head dipped back down and he went back to work, finding and kissing every freckle on my front side before climbing back up my body.
“Titus,” I whined, my hands grabbing on to his back and trying to pull him down on me.
“I like it when you whine. But I like it even better when you scream my name.” Titus’s voice sent a shiver down my limbs.
He leaned in to kiss me, finally letting his weight sink. There was nothing like the weight of a man pressing you down right before he filled you with his cock. Titus didn’t disappoint, kissing me until I wiggled underneath him and spread my legs wide in invitation. He took the hint and bent my leg to give him more access. He let his cock drag over my slit several times, his blue-eyed gaze watching my face intently.
I opened my mouth to let him have it and he chose that moment to plunge forward, filling me completely and stealing away my words. His hands found mine, linking our fingers together and pressing our hands into the mattress as he slid almost all the way out of my body before thrusting back in. The drag of his bare cock was now my drug. The one thing that could set my body on fire at first touch.
“Fuck, Amelia.” Titus’s jaw was locked tight, his gaze never leaving my face.
I gave him my eyes as I gave him my body, needing the connection at both points. His ab muscles flexed above me, the bands of muscles in his arms bunched tight on either side of me. I wrapped my legs around him and dug my heels into his ass, urging him on. Pleasure spiraled, building so fast I nearly wept when he jerked back and pulled out.
“Why?” I whined again.
Titus only gave me a look I’d describe as a reprimanding smolder. He lay down next to me and rolled me to my side, lifting my top leg and sliding back home. He didn’t say a word, but his intent was clear. Everything about this moment was soft and slow, the desperation for each other beat back by a deeper yearning for connection, one that would last a lifetime. He tilted his hips to a better angle and let his hands roam my body. He touched me everywhere, all the while smiling at me lazily.
This wasn’t fucking and it wasn’t even sex. This was lovemaking. And I suddenly wondered why I’d never known there was a difference. Then again, I’d never given Titus a chance before now.
Sixteen years after the fact, I finally got it right.
I grabbed his ass, the one with the little peacock now etched in his skin, and urged him faster. I couldn’t take the slow thrusts much longer or I’d beg him to
