EMBER - Part Two (The EMBER Series Book 2) by Deborah Bladon Page B
Authors: Deborah Bladon
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with Dane has consisted of chaperoned visits in the living room of my place. My mother had grilled him with a barrage of questions about his youth, his family and his future career aspirations.
I'd intervened more than once to pull him from her overbearing clutches, but he'd held his own. He had answered each of her questions honestly. He'd assured her that he wasn't going to rush into anything with me and he'd actually pulled a smile onto her face when he brought her a blueberry bagel and a tea one morning after his shift. He had remembered her mentioning that a bakery on the Upper West Side made the best bagel she'd ever had and he went out of his way to hand deliver it. It was as much a surprise to me as it was to her.
"She's gone now." I scoop my casted arm behind his back. "I'm finally free."
He throws his head back in laughter and I glance up. Since the accident, his expression has volleyed between hope and concern. The night that I was hit, he had traveled in the ambulance with me to the hospital, holding tightly to my right hand. He had paced in the waiting room with my family and friends for word on my condition. Since then, he's come to visit me at least once a day. Even though the only intimacy we've shared the past few weeks has been hand holding and a few kisses, his presence has energized me in a way that nothing else could.
"How are you feeling?" He leans down to rest his forehead against mine. "Is your arm okay?"
I rub it gently over his back. "The doctor said I should have this thing removed in ten days and then I'll do some therapy. I'll be back to full strength in no time."
He shakes his head slightly. "You can't push it, Bridget. You have to let your body heal at the pace it wants to."
All my body really wants right now is to be nude in my bed with his. "I feel like the accident happened a lifetime ago. I have so many plans. I'm ready to get back out there."
"Not yet." His hands slide down my back to cup my jean covered ass. "Right now, you're not going anywhere. I've waited for weeks to get you alone."
"I'm all yours," I whisper as he glides his soft, supple lips over mine.
***
"I can't wait, Bridget." His breath flows over the back of my neck. "I want to taste you but I have to be inside of you."
I'm not going to say a thing. It's exactly what I want too. He'd carefully pulled the white t-shirt I had been wearing over my head before he knelt down to unzip my jeans and push them from my body. He'd taken not more than a minute longer to force my panties down. His lips had kissed a gentle path over my hip bone where a large bruise is finally fading. I'd heard his breath catch at the muted purple and yellow tones of it.
"I don't want to hurt you." His voice is low as his hands grip my waist. "Come and get on the bed. I want to see your face."
I let him take the lead, not because I'm not quaking from sheer want, but because I want to see his face too. I want to revel in the way his lips part when he's thrusting himself into me. I need to soak in the vision of his eyes closing when he feels me clenching around him as I find my release.
He holds my hand as he lowers me onto the bed. I watch in silence as he sheaths his thick cock in a condom. His labored breathing is the only sound in the space.
I move my legs as he drops his knee onto the mattress and I throw my left hand over my head when I feel his cock rub against my core.
"Bridget." My name flows from his lips within a muted moan as he grazes his long fingers over my folds. "You're so wet."
Each time he'd kissed me goodbye the past few weeks, my body had ached for him. I know that part of that is just the need that was borne from the intimate moments we've shared in this room before my accident, but there's more to it than that. When we're like this, on the cusp of sharing ourselves with one another, there's vulnerability within his eyes that I feel inside of me too. I've had lovers in the past that fulfilled me in a physical way
I'd intervened more than once to pull him from her overbearing clutches, but he'd held his own. He had answered each of her questions honestly. He'd assured her that he wasn't going to rush into anything with me and he'd actually pulled a smile onto her face when he brought her a blueberry bagel and a tea one morning after his shift. He had remembered her mentioning that a bakery on the Upper West Side made the best bagel she'd ever had and he went out of his way to hand deliver it. It was as much a surprise to me as it was to her.
"She's gone now." I scoop my casted arm behind his back. "I'm finally free."
He throws his head back in laughter and I glance up. Since the accident, his expression has volleyed between hope and concern. The night that I was hit, he had traveled in the ambulance with me to the hospital, holding tightly to my right hand. He had paced in the waiting room with my family and friends for word on my condition. Since then, he's come to visit me at least once a day. Even though the only intimacy we've shared the past few weeks has been hand holding and a few kisses, his presence has energized me in a way that nothing else could.
"How are you feeling?" He leans down to rest his forehead against mine. "Is your arm okay?"
I rub it gently over his back. "The doctor said I should have this thing removed in ten days and then I'll do some therapy. I'll be back to full strength in no time."
He shakes his head slightly. "You can't push it, Bridget. You have to let your body heal at the pace it wants to."
All my body really wants right now is to be nude in my bed with his. "I feel like the accident happened a lifetime ago. I have so many plans. I'm ready to get back out there."
"Not yet." His hands slide down my back to cup my jean covered ass. "Right now, you're not going anywhere. I've waited for weeks to get you alone."
"I'm all yours," I whisper as he glides his soft, supple lips over mine.
***
"I can't wait, Bridget." His breath flows over the back of my neck. "I want to taste you but I have to be inside of you."
I'm not going to say a thing. It's exactly what I want too. He'd carefully pulled the white t-shirt I had been wearing over my head before he knelt down to unzip my jeans and push them from my body. He'd taken not more than a minute longer to force my panties down. His lips had kissed a gentle path over my hip bone where a large bruise is finally fading. I'd heard his breath catch at the muted purple and yellow tones of it.
"I don't want to hurt you." His voice is low as his hands grip my waist. "Come and get on the bed. I want to see your face."
I let him take the lead, not because I'm not quaking from sheer want, but because I want to see his face too. I want to revel in the way his lips part when he's thrusting himself into me. I need to soak in the vision of his eyes closing when he feels me clenching around him as I find my release.
He holds my hand as he lowers me onto the bed. I watch in silence as he sheaths his thick cock in a condom. His labored breathing is the only sound in the space.
I move my legs as he drops his knee onto the mattress and I throw my left hand over my head when I feel his cock rub against my core.
"Bridget." My name flows from his lips within a muted moan as he grazes his long fingers over my folds. "You're so wet."
Each time he'd kissed me goodbye the past few weeks, my body had ached for him. I know that part of that is just the need that was borne from the intimate moments we've shared in this room before my accident, but there's more to it than that. When we're like this, on the cusp of sharing ourselves with one another, there's vulnerability within his eyes that I feel inside of me too. I've had lovers in the past that fulfilled me in a physical way
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