“Just tell me you’ll always be mine, Lenora.”
I tipped my head back and looked at him. “As long as you’ll always be mine.”
He groaned and leaned in to kiss me. “Always.”
And just like that, everything was right where it should be.
Chapter Fourteen
Lenora
The next morning
The sound of someone inhaling close to my ear had me slowly opening my eyes. The sun was bright, shining right through the open window, and I groaned softly, my body pleasantly sore in all the right places. This heavy weight pressed against my back, and I closed my eyes and smiled.
Beckham.
I shifted, but Beckham groaned and held me tighter.
“It’s too early for you to be getting up.” His voice was deep and right by my ear. I shivered at how good it felt.
I looked over my shoulder to stare at him. His short dark hair was mussed around his head, his eyes were closed, and his naked chest was on full display. God, he was gorgeous. I lowered my gaze and looked at the sheet that was bunched around his waist, the very clear indentation of his semi-hard erection on display. I was turned on instantly. I felt the chilled air on my skin then and looked down at my chest, realizing the blanket was pooled around my waist, same as him. My breasts were on full display, my nipples hardening. As if Beckham sensed that, he slid his hand up and cupped a mound, sliding his palm against the peaks and pulling a moan from me.
God.
“You feel incredible,” he whispered against my shoulder, and I shifted, my ass rubbing against his stiff dick.
I wanted him to take me again, but I needed to go to the bathroom and definitely freshen up.
I reached for the sheet, but he stopped me, chuckling. “Don’t hide yourself from me, Lenora. You’re too fucking pretty for that.”
My body felt flushed instantly.
“Well, pretty or not, this girl has to go to the bathroom.” He chuckled and let go of me, and I looked over my shoulder to stare at him.
He rolled onto his back and placed an arm over his face, but I could still see he watched me, his eyes hooded, his expression sexy. I took in the sight of his six-pack, of his defined pecs and bulging biceps, and I wanted to lean down and lick every inch of him.
Beckham owned me last night. There was no other way to put it. I was sore between my thighs, and I knew it wasn’t just because he was massive in every sense, but also because I’d given him my virginity.
My heart fluttered at the very thought that he’d given me every part of himself too, that not only did he claim my innocence, but I had his forever as well. A pleasant discomfort and twinge of pain when I moved said he’d certainly made last night memorable. And as I felt the stickiness between my legs, the product of how I’d made him go over the edge, his cum on my inner thighs, I felt this sense of excitement and arousal thrum through my veins.
“I’ll be back,” I said and watched the slow grin spread across his lips.
“I’ll be waiting, baby.”
My heart jumped in my throat at his endearment.
Although I was very much aware of my nudity, and a little uncomfortable with flaunting it in this morning light in front of Beckham, when I looked over my shoulder and saw the way his gaze was trained on my ass then saw the massive erection he sported, this powerful feeling came over me.
The small bathroom attached to his room was convenient, and once inside, I shut the door and stared at myself in the mirror.
The bathroom was tiny, with a single-person shower stall and an array of manly looking things on the counter. Everything in here smelled like Beckham. Memories of what we’d done last night, of how our skin had been sweaty and pressed together, played through my mind. As I stared at my naked body in the mirror, I noticed there were small bruises on my hips, and when I looked down, I saw there were fingerprint-sized blue and purple marks on my thighs as well. Heat bloomed in me, and I instantly got wet between my legs.
Beckham had given me these, a mark. His mark.
After using the bathroom, gargling some mouthwash, and running my fingers through my “the morning after a good fuck” hair, I headed back into the bedroom and saw Beckham lying in the same place, his arm still over his eyes. But when he heard me enter, he pushed himself up and grinned. God, I loved him so much. His muscles flexed and bunched with the littlest shift of his body, and I felt myself heat all over again.
When I was close enough to the bed, Beckham pulled me down onto the mattress, and I happily laid beside him, curling against his big, muscular body, resting my head on his chest, and listening to the beat of his heart.
For long moments, we just lay there, needing nowhere to go, no rush, just letting the aftereffects of finally being truthful to each other, finally giving ourselves over, consume every part of us.
“How is your dad?” I finally asked. I expected him to tense, to pull away. This was absolutely a sensitive subject, painful. But he never stopped running his fingers up and down my arm, and he kept me close, stayed relaxed.
“He’s really well, actually. He asks about you all the time.”
I felt a twinge of guilt that I hadn’t stayed in contact with Rob as much as I should have. He’d been a part of my life for years. But after everything, I’d felt weird, guilty. I felt if he saw me, he’d only be reminded of my mother and what she did.
“I miss him. I need to be better at checking in with him.”
Beckham kissed the top of my head. “He’d really love that.” We stayed silent for a few seconds. “He met someone, by the way.”
I felt a smile filter across my face at the sound of that. I sat up slightly and looked down at his face, saw the smile he wore as well.
“He really likes her.”
I felt happiness for Rob and was so thankful my mother hadn’t ruined his life. “I’m glad. I’m really glad he’s happy again.”
Beckham pulled me back down against him, and I wrapped my arm around his waist. I was thankful he didn’t talk about my mother, didn’t ask about her again. She didn’t need to intrude on this moment. I’d come to terms long ago that the life she led didn’t include me. And when it did, it was only on her terms. And that’s not a life I wanted to have.
I didn’t want to be someone’s backup, someone to stroke their ego, to make them feel better.
I wanted to be someone’s priority, and I found that with Beckham.
“I hope this goes without saying, but I don’t want you to leave, Lenora. I want you to stay here with me, to share this room with me… to be mine.”
God, I’d wanted to hear him say that for so long.
“There is no arrangement. There never was. As soon as you asked to move in with me, I knew I’d make things right and make you stay here with me anyway I could. There was no way I could have let you go again.”
I shifted on the mattress so I could look at him. I wanted to stare in his eyes as I listened.
“I’m not saying I’m perfect. I’m far from it. I’ll probably make mistakes down the road, piss you off, make you wish you could punch me in the face.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
His expression sobered. “But know this. I love you, Lenora, more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in this fucking world. And that’ll never change. It’ll only grow as time passes. I’m in this for the long haul with you. Forever.” He cupped my cheek and leaned in to kiss me softly. “And I think you want that too.”