Jamison (Beautiful Mine #3) by Gia DeLuca

leaned up, Sophie still in my lap, and ripped her t-shirt off her body, my fingers on fire against her soft skin as I worked to unhook her bra. She gripped the back of my hair, tugging and pulling in tandem with every movement as I nibbled her ear. Her soft lips pressed into my shoulder as she rocked back and forth, impatient for the inevitable.
    She pulled back, leaning away and looking into my eyes, her brown eyes searching mine. As I cupped the underside of her delicate jaw, my thumb traced her full bottom lip. She smiled, uncharacteristically vulnerable for a moment, and covered my hand with hers.
    She climbed off me, slipping her leggings down and tossing them to the floor as she sprawled out, naked as the day she was born, and flashed me a smile and an eyebrow raise as if to say it was my turn.
    The floor-to-ceiling windows of her loft were uncovered, and Sophie was on full display as always. She followed my gaze to the windows.
    “Don’t be like that,” she said. “Who cares if anyone can see in here?”
    Her fingers fumbled with my belt buckle, brushing against my contained hardness and trying her damnedest to unleash my erection. I pulled a condom from my pocket and tore the package, sheathing myself quickly as her dark eyes pled for me to touch her.
    She reached an arm back behind her, clicking off the bedside lamp and creating a dark cocoon of night around us. The glow from her studio lamp across the room and the trickle of moonlight from the windows cast just enough light for me to make out the curves of her body.
    She crawled toward me on all fours, the swell of her ass showcased by an arch in the small of her back and marked by two slight dimples. My hands reached out, searching the darkness to grab onto a piece of her.
    Her thighs parted as she crawled over top of me, lowering herself onto my hardness and sliding down, as if we were made to fit together perfectly. A soft sigh fled her lips as her head dipped back. Her hands braced on my stomach, she rocked her body back and forth, circling her hips and bouncing on her knees as if she’d waited her whole life to feel this way.
    I watched as she bit her lip, scrunched her eyes, and relaxed her face each time she’d press herself onto me. I wasn’t just inside her—I was consuming every fiber of her, igniting her soul.
    She leaned forward, her wavy hair spilling across her chest and tickling my face, and leaned down to taste my mouth.
    “My turn.” I grabbed her by the hips, flipping her onto her back as I crawled over top of her. Grabbing the base of my cock, I inserted it into her, reconnecting our souls once more. Her thighs slid up the sides of my hips, squeezing with every insertion. She arched, raking her hands up and down the sides of my back, mumbling and moaning soft sounds of intense pleasure.
    My lips searched in the dark for hers, and every place our bodies touched lit with fire. I burned for her. My soul needed her. She was the only girl who could make me forget about all the bullshit and all the assholes. She never asked for a damn thing from me, except for me to save her life.
    In the darkness of her apartment, in the tangled mess of sheets with my face buried in her soft hair, I vowed to do whatever it took to save her.
    God have mercy on the poor soul who tries to stop me.

 

 
    SOPHIE
    I woke in a tiny post-op room with a gray-haired nurse recording my vitals. With tubes and IVs and wires hooked up to every part of me and a thick blanket weighing me down, I couldn’t move an inch.
    “She’s awake,” the nurse said. She turned to me with kind eyes, and her quaint smile reminded me of my sweet grandmother. “Your procedure went well, sweetie. Just rest, okay?”
    A quick knock on the door brought me my Jamison. A week ago he’d told me I was scheduled for surgery with one of the top neurosurgeons in the nation, Dr. Jim Fowler. Jamison walked me to the hospital that morning dressed in his green scrubs and had stayed with me until