Free Recovery by L. B. Simmons Page A

I’m sorry, too. I should’ve never raised my voice like that. It’s just…Jesus, Alex…You could’ve been seriously hurt. I don’t know what I would do if–”
    Pushing onto my tiptoes, I crush my lips to his before he can finish his sentence.
    No more wasted time.
    Deepening the kiss with my tongue, I force him back until his shoulders hit the wall. He grips the back of my neck with one hand, threading his fingers through my hair while the other tightens on my lower back; our kiss becoming more and more frenzied. His breath becomes my breath, his tongue dipping into my mouth, possessively stroking mine and making me feverish. My hands move hastily over his body, tugging at his clothes, desperate to be as close to him as possible. As he slowly moves his hand from my waist to cup me between my legs, a gasp of pleasure escapes from my throat, making me bite down on his lower lip and grind myself against his hand. He groans and suddenly his mouth is no longer on mine. We stare at each other, breathless, our bodies humming with anticipation. As his thumb gently brushes over my jaw, he whispers, “My Alex…”
    He slowly moves his hand upwards from between my legs, stopping at my belly. For an extended moment, I feel his silent desperation, his fear of losing what we created as his eyes burn into mine. Moving his hand around my waist, he runs it up and down the curve of my spine almost reverently, but never loosening his grip at my nape, never breaking eye contact. His hand gradually moving lower and lower with each gentle down stroke, he growls lowly as he grabs hold of my backside and pulls me into him. “God, I’ve missed you so much,” he moans.
    Taking my mouth again, his tongue furiously grazes every inch of my mouth and I match his movements. There is a sense of urgency and need in his kiss, as though his body is making up for lost time. In that moment, I need him to own me and he needs to know that I am his. “I need you inside me, Blake,” I say panting and pushing my body even more into his. There can’t be any space between us; I’m desperate for our bodies to join, for our skin to touch everywhere.
    Looping my arms under his, my nails dig into the skin of his upper back before he breaks the kiss again. “I’m right here, baby. Always,” he mutters, pressing soft kisses down my neck.
    When his mouth stops in the crook of my neck and his teeth graze the area gently, I dig my nails even further into his skin. He lets out a throaty groan and the area between my legs begins to throb in response. Breaking away from him briefly, I raise his shirt over his head, but his eyes never leave mine. My heavy breaths and my racing pulse are all I can hear as his mouth curves into that sexy, crooked smile, a familiar mischief filling his eyes. He holds my stare and slowly kneels to the ground, his hands grazing lightly over my tummy as he makes his descent. When he lifts the bottom of my tank and presses his soft lips to my growing stomach, my hands fall helplessly to my sides.
    He slides my yoga pants down my legs, his fingers lightly skimming over my bare skin, trailed by butterfly kisses and soft brushes from his tongue. A whimper escapes my throat when I feel his warm breath though the drenched cotton of the only remaining article of clothing on my lower body. He places a tender kiss right between my legs, the pressure from his lips causing that entire area to throb. I arch, curving into his mouth. His lips stay in place, rapid breaths against my trembling sex making me shiver while he hooks my thong with his thumbs and tears it away from my body with a single movement. My legs spread slowly on their own accord as he pushes his tongue into me, licking and parting my folds. I bite back a scream and grab a fistful of his hair while he slowly flickers the hypersensitive knot with the tip of his tongue. When his hands move from the back of my legs to cup my bottom, squeezing it and pushing me onto his tongue, my