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“I need you,” I murmured. “I need you now. I need you every night and every morning. I need us, always.” Tears danced in my eyes as I bared my soul to him. I needed him to know how much I loved him, needed to show him the love I felt for him. He licked his lips and nodded before leaning up, twisting his hands in my hair, and pulling my lips to his own. He took my mouth passionately. Like he was thanking me for accepting him and his past. I loved him regardless of it all. I broke the kiss and pulled the sheet off his body before sliding his boxer briefs down his legs. He was hard and ready and when I palmed him, he twitched, lust sparking in his eyes.

I pulled up on my knees and held him in my hand, positioning him at my entrance before I sank down onto him. Tristan filled me—every corner and every fiber of my being hummed for him. Satisfied the constant yearning I had for him was being fulfilled at the moment, I rocked back and forth, taking him in and out of my body slowly, worshipping him and celebrating us. I moaned and ran my hands up the cut lines of his chest, his smooth skin beneath my hands, the rippling muscles working as we made love.

He took my breath away.

Every day he took my breath away and as long as I had him, I was okay with it. He could have it. Because he gave me back so much more.

Tristan’s hands ran up my ribcage, lighting my skin on fire, causing lightning bolts of pleasure to pulse straight through to my core. I rocked and moaned, taking all the pleasure he was giving me. His hands palmed my breasts, brushing over my sensitive nipples. I gasped as I arched to his body. His hands snaked up my collarbone and laced around my neck, locking into my hair. He pulled me down onto him and kissed me with fierce passion. Tongues tangling and caressing, lips bruising, swallowed moans, and breathless pants echoing around the walls of the bedroom.

“Please don’t leave me,” he said softly between kisses. Tears sprang to my eyes and fell down my cheeks. I froze above him and pulled away from his lips to look at him. His eyes glistened in the moonlight and I could see the water that had pooled there.

“Oh no, no, Tristan.” I held his beautiful face in my hands, searching for the right thing to say to take the pain from his eyes.

“I don’t want this to be goodbye. I’m afraid you’re telling me goodbye.” He choked out the words, his eyes boring into mine.

“Never. I’m never saying goodbye. I couldn't if I tried. I love you so much more than I ever thought possible. I can’t leave you. This,” I placed my palm over my heart, “this beats for you. I can’t live without my heart, and you have it.” I prayed it was enough to ease his mind.

He only nodded, his hands at my hips holding me to him.

“Do you believe that?”

He licked his lips again and watched me. I could see his brain working as he processed my words.

“Tristan. It’s true.” I stroked his cheeks with my thumbs before leaning down and pressing my lips to his, taking him in a kiss, praying I could communicate all my love for him in one passionate, possessive action.

“My heart doesn’t beat without you. You’re stuck with me.” I pulled away and grinned. His beautiful smile lifted at the corners and the twinkle returned to his eyes.

“There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with,” he murmured and pulled my lips down to his again as he worked his hips against my own, restarting our passionate coupling. I moved with him even slower than before, cherishing our connection, not wanting to tear our lips apart.

“And just for the record, there’s no one’s ass I’d rather be stuck with.” He nipped at my earlobe before turning us over in one smooth motion, holding my thighs high in his hands and plowing into me. I grabbed the headboard and clenched my fists around it, my head thrust back in pleasure. I moaned his name as he rocked into my body, hitting every sensitive nerve I had. My eyes flickered open as he thrust and I watched his hair fall over his forehead, his head bent down, watching where we connected: where our bodies came together, where I took him in with all the love I had. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and his hands tightened on my thighs. So tightly, it was nearly painful— so tightly, he would leave bruises just as he’d done that night last summer. It was like he was holding onto me for dear life, as if despite everything I’d told him, he was still afraid I would run.

“Fuck, Georgia. So close. Come with me. I need you to come with me.” He groaned before his head shot up, eyes on me, lip still sucked between his teeth. My climax built in my core, the pressure becoming unbearable before it exploded over me like a freight train. Tristan thrust twice more before his whole body shuddered, a soft moan escaping his beautiful lips. His eyes fluttered closed, his hips slowed their rhythm, and he bent down, his beautiful body curved over me, his head on my shoulder and heated pants shaking his body. One palm trailed up my torso and curled around my neck, holding our heads together as he emptied into me. His hips finally stilled as he stayed inside me. I took everything he had to give. I was open to him and nothing could take me away, but I feared his own demons refused to let him see that.

I wondered if this would be our battle. He would always fear that I would leave, and I was afraid his past would forever haunt us.

30

“Mmm, come back here and warm me up,” I heard Tristan groan as I peeled myself off his body to head for the bathroom.

“I can’t hold it anymore.” I squealed as he pulled me back onto his hard body and skimmed his hands up and down my back and torso.

“So tickling would be a bad idea?” He dug his fingers into my hips and I burst into a fit of giggles, writhing away from him.

“Mercy, God, mercy!”

His fingers slowed their assault, but he still held me to him. I finally quit laughing and looked up into his eyes. They sparkled and hummed with energy, but that heart-stopping smile he usually had when he was teasing me was absent.

“You’re so fucking beautiful in the morning,” he said without an ounce of amusement on his face.

My cheeks flushed at the compliment. “I think you need to have your eyes checked.” I pushed away from him to head for the bathroom.

“Let’s get married,” he blurted.

“You already asked me that and, as I recall, I said yes.” I lifted my hand and spun the ring on my finger.

“No, let’s do it this weekend.”

“You’re serious?” I lifted my eyebrows in surprise.

“As a heart attack. Everyone we love is here. Let’s do it this weekend.”

I furrowed my brow as I considered his words. “I don’t want to rush it.”

“It isn’t a rush; I asked you the first time last winter. I wanted to marry you then and I want to marry you now. Nine months, I’d call that a pretty long engagement.”

“Not really. A lot of people plan a wedding for a year, or even two. Anyway, what about your dad?”

“He’s not really a wedding kind of guy. Come on, let’s do this.”

“Tristan, I told you I’d marry you. Give me time to plan a wedding.”

“You said yes three months ago and you still haven't chosen a date. No wedding planning in sight. Let’s do this, Georgia. Stop fucking around.”

My face dropped in shock. “You think I'm putting you off?” I whispered.

“I don’t know what you’re doing. What I know is you won’t give me a date to be my wife.” He deadpanned. The pain that had crossed his beautiful features last night was back.