14. Genevieve

FOURTEEN

GENEVIEVE

“I have to tell you something.” The sun has long since risen, Amos is lying flat on his back, and I’m curled into his side. True to his words last night, I woke up with him burying his cock inside me. I never thought I’d fall asleep when I first laid down, but what seemed like two minutes later, my eyes were drifting closed. The next time I woke up, my legs were spread, Amos was wedged between them, and he was rubbing the underside of his cock along my slit, gathering my wetness before sliding inside.

“What’s that, sweet Genevieve?” Amos runs his fingers up and down my arm. I have my leg hitched over his hip, and his hand is holding it hostage in his firm grasp.

I lift my head, no longer worried about my hair, my morning breath, or anything else. What I have to admit is worse than any of those things combined. Amos is sexy as hell on any given day. In the morning, when he’s soft from sleep, the lines on his forehead and gray at his temples are even sexier.

“This may change how our relationship goes.” He still looks completely unbothered while my stomach is doing summersaults. I move until I’m on my elbow, the sheet sliding down, and his eyes go to my breasts for a moment before he gets that hazy look on his face, going so far as to lick his lips. He knows what that does to me, and while I love it any other day, this morning, I need his attention. I pull the sheet up, covering myself, and he grunts his dismay. Amos also decides he doesn’t like the position we’re in. One minute, I’m on my side, and the next I’m flat on my back, his hips are wedged between my thighs, and his cock lies hard and heavy against my pussy.

“Nothing is going to change, Genevieve.” In flipping me over, I’ve lost the fight against covering myself, but the good news is I have a portion of his weight. This seems to be Amos’ preference when it comes to taking me. Some might think one position is too vanilla, but I don’t. It’s hot the way he takes control of my body. He knows which movements make me orgasm, and he likes watching me the entire time.

“I’d like to think the same thing, though this may be different.” I raise my hand to his arm, holding it there while I place the palm of my other over his heart. This man has the biggest pieces of me—my body, my soul, and most definitely my heart.

“Not a damn thing could ever change the way I feel about you. Not your age. Not my sister. Not the way you’re hyper-focused, lost in your own world for hours on end. Not the way you’re uncomfortable around large crowds or your caution when there’s someone new in the fold.” I open my mouth before closing it, repeating the process. He forgot to mention a few things, especially my clumsiness and penchant to disappear when I’m feeling overwhelmed. Two of the qualities about this whole neurodivergent diagnosis I hate. There’s also the factor it could be hereditary, and I need to tell him that before this goes any farther. The doctor did say it could also be a combination of factors, but if there are potentially any children in our future, he deserves to know.

“Amos.” Tears caused by his sweet words obscure my view. Try as I might to blink them away, they keep coming. Amos being Amos cups my cheeks, and his calloused thumbs slide delicately along my skin to wipe them away. He’s always so careful with me when I’m in a vulnerable state. There’ve only been a few times, yet he takes care, whether that’s his natural inclination or from his time raising Sienna at such a young age.

“Fallin’ for you, Genevieve. I’m seeing you need those words as much as you need to be shown them, too. I like you for you, your strengths, your weaknesses, everything in between.” No longer am I lightly crying; I’m full-on ugly crying, but in the best way possible. I mean, my face and chest are red and blotchy, my breathing is choppy, I’m talking almost heaving, and all I can do is cover my face while I have the biggest meltdown of the century. Way to make a great moment into something ridiculous. A different kind of sensory overload is what I’m currently going through.

“Amos.” I suck back the emotion as he pulls my hands away from my face, trying to cover up the emotion with my current spiraling moment.

“Shh, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He drops down, giving me more of his weight, his arms wrapping beneath my body. Amos is hugging me, full body, and it’s exactly what I need as he continues whispering into my ear. “This what we’ve got going on. There’s love built in already, in it for long haul. I see it all, and I’ll tell you every day for the rest of my life until you’re sick of hearing me say it.” He slides us until we’re both on our sides, and through it all, he holds me.

He holds me.

It’s worth repeating: Amos is everything I ever dreamed about.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’ve already fallen for you.” I finally get myself together enough to respond to the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me .

“Fuck me, sweetheart. Gonna make you love me exactly like I love you.” I’m speechless, and when Amos swoops in, taking my mouth with his, my hands find their place on his chest, holding on as he kisses me with a searing passion. We’re a tangle of limbs as his tongue slides inside of my mouth. This is Amos. The true man who is lost in passion. I’m along for the ride. All I can do is hold on. I more than enjoy his male dominance, loving everything he does to my body and soul. When I think he’s going to end our kiss, he doesn’t. He goes back for more. I hitch my thigh over his hip, opening myself up for him. We’re both naked from the night before, and one dip of his body would make him slide inside of me.

“Amos,” I moan, arching into him, unable to contain my desire for him. The lips of my pussy slide along his cock, wetness coating him in my path.

“Genevieve.” He pulls away from my mouth and looks deep into my eyes. “You sure? Been taking you a lot. The last thing I want is you too sore to take me again.” A nod is all it takes. He’s inside me with one powerful thrust of his hips. My body locks up, and while I’m a tiny bit tender, I still want and need him.

“You good?” Amos asks, holding still.

“More than good. I’ve always dreamed I’d have a cowboy of my own one day. I never thought it would actually happen.” I’m moved once again. This time, Amos is flat on his back and I’m straddling his waist. He somehow manages to hit deeper and fuller.

“You’ve got one, forever.” His hands lock on my waist, guiding me as I move up and down, backwards and forward, a roll of my hips, my hands going behind me to use the tops of his thighs for leverage as I ride his cock. And this is how we spend our morning, locked together in the bedroom.