Home > Valentine (On Dublin Street #5.5)(12)

Valentine (On Dublin Street #5.5)(12)
Author: Samantha Young

I stared into his eyes. “I will. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

He lowered his gaze and his wine, and I waited, recognizing the troubled look on his face. “Would you really try to leave me?”

I closed my eyes, wishing I’d never said that. It was the heat of the moment, it was my own pain talking.

But I’d hurt him.

“It would have to take a hell of a lot to make me leave you, Cameron MacCabe.”

He looked up at me now and I shivered at the heat, the longing… the determination in his eyes. “I would follow you, you know. I would follow you to the ends of the earth to convince you to come back to me. I will never stop fighting for you.”

And that right there…. That was one of the many reasons I loved him. “I just needed the reminder. Not everyone has a love like ours, Cam. I was terrified we were becoming just… ordinary.”

His answer to that was to push the food out of the way and crawl toward me.

My breath hitched as he nudged my legs apart and pressed his body against mine until I had no recourse but to lie back on the floor beneath him. He braced himself over me, one hand caressing my thigh.

“It’s been too long. I need to be inside you, baby.”

I nodded, speechless as arousal flushed hot and tingling between my legs and in the swell of my breasts. “I need you too.”

Cam slowly stripped me of my pajamas and his own clothes until I was lying naked in the glow of the candlelight and he was braced on his knees over me. I drank in the sight of him, of the warm light highlighting the hard, muscular body that was maintained by the gym and his martial arts training. I had to admit part of me had resented his immoveable commitment to his fitness these last few months—more time given to something else other than me.

But lying there, desire prickling my every nerve ending as I took in his masculine beauty, I had to admit I loved the outcome of his commitment. My gaze moved up to his face and my breath caught in my throat at the expression in his eyes.

“I was right you know… all those years ago.”

My brows drew together at his cryptic comment.

“When I said no man could possibly deserve you.”

Tears stung my eyes at the memory. “You’re stunning. No man could possibly deserve you.” Cam had said that to me the first night we were together. It wasn’t something a woman easily forgot.

But it was an insanely beautiful realization that Cam hadn’t forgotten one thing about that night either. A tear slid down my cheek and he came slowly down over me, one hand on my hip, the other cupping my face so he could wipe my tear with his thumb. “I will make this up to you,” he repeated hoarsely, his own eyes bright with emotion.

And I knew him well enough to know that he’d be kicking his own arse for weeks to come about this.

I sought to soothe him, as he had soothed me. “You already are.”

On that he kissed me softly, sweetly as he slid his hand between my legs and caught his thumb on my clit. I sighed in pleasure, arching into his touch as he circled my clit, need swirling low in my belly.

Just as the tension was about to break in me he broke our kiss and removed his thumb.

My eyes flashed in unfilled desire.

A small, playful smirk curled the corners of his delicious mouth and I cried out his name as he slipped two thick fingers inside of me.

“Look at me, Jo,” he demanded and I did as he asked.

Our eyes held and locked as he wound me up with his fingers, his own eyes darkening with a deepening arousal as he watched my eyes dilate, as he listened to me pant his name over and over.

I came on a cry of relief and he grasped my wrists, held my hands above my head and began to thrust into me.

Light flared in his eyes as he looked down at me. Not once, as he pumped his hips against mine, as the sweat began to bead across his skin, as the muscles in his jaw clenched with his effort to hold his release in check, did my husband once break eye contact with me.

I wanted to touch him but every time I tried to move my hands he pressed them down harder to the floor.

“Do you see?” he groaned, his thrusts coming faster and harder. “Do you see what you do to me? Only you. Only you…”

On those words I cried out his name again, my inner muscles rippling around him as I came.

“Johanna,” he called out as his hips stilled and then jerked against mine as his own hard climax rocked him.

He rested his forehead against my chest as he tried to catch his breath.

“I think we both needed that,” I whispered, amused and sated.

Cam looked at me and released my wrists to rest his hands on my waist. I circled his shoulders with my arms and wrapped my legs around him, holding him inside me, tight to me.

“You and Belle,” he whispered, his words somber. “You mean everything to me.”

Tonight had left us both raw, but whereas I was much calmer now, much more at ease, made so by his reassurances, Cam was unsure. I could see the panic buried deep in the back of his eyes. He didn’t know if I believed him. And I had a feeling he was going to spend the next few months trying to prove his love to me. As much as that would be lovely, I didn’t want Cam feeling the way I had felt for the last few months.

“I believe you,” I whispered. “I promise that I believe you.”

He coasted his hands up and down the sides of my waist in a soothing, comforting caress. “It’s Saturday tomorrow.”

“It is.”

“You, me and Belle. This whole weekend. Just us.”

“No work?” I said, hopeful.

“I’m switching my phone off.”

I grinned. “That sounds fun.”

“Mmm.” He brushed his mouth over mine. “I think it’ll start with a sleep-in.”

“Oh?”

“You’re going to be very, very tired, Mrs. MacCabe.” He grinned cockily. “But very, very satisfied.”

I laughed and he grinned harder at the sound. “Do your worst, Mr. MacCabe. We’ve got all night.”

“Correction,” He said gruffly. “We’ve got forever.”

I bit my lip on a smile. “You’re the quite the romantic this evening.”

“Well.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It is Valentine’s Day. I don’t mind putting in the effort.”

I playfully pushed at him and he shook with laughter, peppering me with teasing kisses and tickling fingers that I tried to avoid. My failure at both caused my squealing laughter to fill the flat, Cam’s deeper amusement joining it and making my home feel familiar and beautiful again.

   
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