Commitment: The Beauty in Between (A Beautiful Series Novella) by Lilliana Anderson Page A

civilised dinners that are counted as running late and it’s only a
little after midnight.”
    “Yeah well, we grew up I guess,” he says to me, reaching
over and taking my hand in his to rest on his leg while he drives. We hold
hands and listen to the music playing over the radio for a while before he
speaks again. “Do you still want to go out dancing?”
    “No. I’m not into nightclubs anymore, although I do miss
dancing with you all night.”
    When we arrive home, David takes me by the hand and leads me
inside. He’s focused on his phone and I wonder what he’s doing as he walks us
into the living area. But when he docks his phone on the speakers, Colorblind by Counting Crows starts to drift out of the speakers, and I realise what’s
going on.
    I smile at him as he lifts my hand to his mouth and presses
a kiss on my knuckles. “Shall we?” he murmurs.
    His arms encircle my waist as mine slide up over his
shoulders and I lace my fingers across his back.
    “This is nice,” I purr into his ear as I rest my head on his
shoulder, our bodies pressed close and swaying together along with the music.
    He hums and we keep moving in a slow circle, swaying
together, holding each other. When the song ends a new one starts to play,
although I’m not really listening anymore. I’m more focused on the hunger in
the eyes of my fiancé.
    “Kiss me,” I whisper, brushing my lips against his, nudging
him gently. We take it slow, letting the music guide our movement. First it’s
just gentle touches and soft sucking of lips. Slowly our mouths open and we
give each other access, our tongues dancing together with the strains of the
song.
    I start to work at the buttons of his shirt, taking my time
with each one as I start to trail kisses along his jaw, down his neck and
between his pecs.
    He grips my buttocks and presses me to him, showing me his
arousal as it presses firmly into my abdomen. Placing my hands on his chest, I
push back a little, freeing myself from him and then reaching down to the hem
of my dress, pulling it over my head and dropping it on the floor so I’m
standing only in my underwear.
    “You are so beautiful Trina,” he breathes, his eyes dragging
over my body in the dim light of the room.
    “I thought I was your princess,” I tease him.
    “You are. You’re my everything.” A slight skitter of
excitement rolls around in my stomach as he approaches, and I watch him remove
his shirt and drop it near my dress on the floor. The moment our skin touches,
the skitter rolls down and causes a throbbing between my legs.
    Sliding my hands down his well defined chest, I undo the
buttons of his pants. I love to feel him, hard in my hand. At the same time, he
undoes the hook of my bra and being strapless, it falls easily to the ground
with our other things.
    “Bed?” I suggest. I want some space to move around.
    “Bed,” he agrees.
    We move together, kissing and removing the last items of our
clothes before landing on the bed. He slides his hand up my thighs, sending
shivers of longing toward my core. Involuntarily, l roll my hips, I’m desperate
for his touch.
    When his fingers meet my centre, he lets out an appreciative
growl. “You’re so wet. You feel like silk,” he comments as he trails kisses
down my throat and along my collarbone. “I should dance with you more often.”
    “You should. It makes me putty in your hands,” I utter, as I
slide my fingers into his hair. I gasp, closing my eyes and luxuriating under
his touch, as his fingertips spread my juices up over my clit. He circles the
throbbing bundle of nerves as l writhe beneath him, rocking my hips, urging him
on.
    His kisses move down my body as he makes his way over the
small mounds that are my breasts. When he takes my nipple into his mouth, he
drives his fingers inside me, pulsing his hand as he drags his teeth and tugs
playfully on my nipple.
    Inside I’m a mess, that familiar pressure blossoms and
builds, threatening to spill before