Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

“Can’t wait,” he grits out, fingers tightening on my damp skin.

We exit the shower, but Nathan doesn’t pause for a towel.

Leaving a trail of water, he carries me out of the bathroom and drops me on the bed.

The droplets collecting on my skin soak into the fluffy comforter below me, and my hair is a wet mess around my head, but I can’t pretend to care about any of it, because Nathan is crawling over me.

I spread my legs, lifting my knees, and Nathan doesn’t stop until he’s directly above me.

With his eyes on mine, he reaches between us and lines the tip of his dick up with my entrance.

Love you.

The words are there.

In his eyes.

Stuck in my throat.

Floating between us.

I reach for him, hooking my hands under his arms and gripping his back.

He pushes into me, inch by hard inch.

I pull him closer.

My breath is coming in pants as I stretch around him.

It’s been so long.

Too long.

And I need him closer.

“Nathan,” I moan, straining my neck up toward him.

“My Rosie,” he groans.

Then he shoves his hips forward as he drops his mouth to mine.

Our tongues battle.

My nails dig into his skin.

His cock thickens inside me.

And our breaths are one.

I inhale his exhale.

He fills his lungs with mine.

We move.

My hips lift.

His thrust.