Wanting What I Shouldn't

Chapter 44

   The feeling of movement stirs me to wake up from my sleep. I open my eyes, seeing Amara trying to wiggle her way out of my arms.

   Instinctively I wrap my arms tighter around her, pulling her back into my chest "No," my voice comes out raspy and thick. Amara sighs, falling back into my chest trying to hide her tired smile.

   I bury my face into the crook of her neck, breathing in the smell of her vanilla scented body wash I purposely always buy for her.

   My hand rubs soft circles over her bare stomach, enjoying the soft skin on my own as she melts into me, our bodies molding together.

   "You know your family is coming over right?" She whispers, her voice scratchy and cracking. I love her voice in the morning.

   My response is tightening my arm around her bare waist "Mhmmm," she flips around in my hold, placing a quick peck to my lips "I have to start getting ready," she murmurs, trying to pull my hands off her body.

   It doesn't work.

   She groans, her hands falling limp at her sides with a puff of air. Her hair is messy, tangled in small knots along her hairline, a hazy glaze covering her emerald eyes, a morning look on her beautiful face.

   "Yeah?" She nods and I pull her bare front into mine, running my hands up her spine softly. She shivers against me, tucking her face away into my chest with a sigh "Well you can stay here, just for a little while longer," I rasp and she nods her head, her eyes falling closed with a small morning smile pulling at her pink lips.

   Every touch against her skin gives me a reaction in return, whether it's a little shiver or a smile. And my hands can't seem to stop touching her, my heart beating off the tiny reactions.

   Waking up to Amara every morning is my favorite sight. She's either naked in our bed, or wearing close to nothing. Unless she's cold, then she's in my sweatpants and sweatshirt, with a pair of my socks pulled up her feet. Even then she takes things off because I'm always holding her, trying to keep her warm and happy in my arms.

It can't ever get better than her in the morning. Nothing can be better than her. She's my soon-to-be wife. What's better than that?

Absolutely nothing. Nothing in the entire world will ever tell me otherwise. I don't care how many opinions you all have. Amara is my fucking reason to breathe.

I would die without her. In all honesty I don't think my heart beat without her. I was just staying alive. I wasn't living until I met her. Held her. Kissed her. Loved her.

She's my everything.

A yawn stretches across her beautiful face, snuggling herself farther into me, warmth tingling through me. "What time is it?" She asks softly, running her hands up my chest.

Glancing at the clock I hum softly at her touch, so soft and addicting. She tosses her leg over my hip, pressing her whole body into me. If it wasn't such a sweet moment I would be fucking her right now.

She giggles softly, hiding her face away in my chest "Why are you always hard?" She asks quietly, her face burning bright red, hiding her eyes from me.

My arms trail back up her back, twirling some of her messy hair on my finger "There is a gorgeous woman who loves me, is going to marry me, have my kids, and I get to wake up to her ever morning and you expect me to not get hard?" The red on her skin brightens even more, tucking her face into my chest to hide. I chuckle softly, a scratchy sound.

"What time is it?" She asks again, not bothering to look up from my chest. Her breath fans across my skin, right over her handprint tattooed on my chest, my heart thumping faster in response, "It's 9:57."