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Back The Companion Project Save as PDF
Chapters (89)
  1. Dedication
  2. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  3. ONE
  4. HENRY
  5. TWO
  6. EMMA
  7. THREE
  8. HENRY
  9. FOUR
  10. EMMA
  11. FIVE
  12. EMMA
  13. SIX
  14. SEVEN
  15. HENRY
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. HENRY
  20. ELEVEN
  21. TWELVE
  22. EMMA
  23. THIRTEEN
  24. HENRY
  25. FOURTEEN
  26. HENRY
  27. FIFTEEN
  28. SIXTEEN
  29. EMMA
  30. SEVENTEEN
  31. HENRY
  32. EIGHTEEN
  33. HENRY
  34. NINETEEN
  35. HENRY
  36. TWENTY
  37. TWENTY-ONE
  38. EMMA
  39. TWENTY-TWO
  40. EMMA
  41. TWENTY-THREE
  42. HENRY
  43. TWENTY-FOUR
  44. EMMA
  45. TWENTY-FIVE
  46. EMMA
  47. TWENTY-SIX
  48. EMMA
  49. TWENTY-SEVEN
  50. HENRY
  51. TWENTY-EIGHT
  52. EMMA
  53. TWENTY-NINE
  54. HENRY
  55. THIRTY
  56. HENRY
  57. THIRTY-ONE
  58. HENRY
  59. THIRTY-TWO
  60. EMMA
  61. THIRTY-THREE
  62. HENRY
  63. THIRTY-FOUR
  64. EMMA
  65. THIRTY-FIVE
  66. EMMA
  67. THIRTY-SIX
  68. HENRY
  69. THIRTY-SEVEN
  70. EMMA
  71. THIRTY-EIGHT
  72. HENRY
  73. THIRTY-NINE
  74. HENRY
  75. FORTY
  76. EMMA
  77. FORTY-ONE
  78. HENRY
  79. FORTY-TWO
  80. FORTY-THREE
  81. EMMA
  82. FORTY-FOUR
  83. EMMA
  84. FORTY-FIVE
  85. HENRY
  86. EPILOGUE
  87. ALSO BY CHELSEA CURTO
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Her pussy is bare, not a strand of hair to be found. Moisture is staining her open thighs, glistening in the lamp-lit room. God fucking Almighty, she’s practically leaking and I’ve barely touched her yet.

Whatever doubts I have sail out the window. She wants this, and she wants me to be the one to give it to her. I drop my head and close my eyes, praying to whatever deity is watching from above to please let me survive tonight.

I’m not sure I will.

“I need a minute.”

“Did I do something wrong?” She sounds worried, fear and rejection evident in her timid tone.

Rage boils within me, a volcano on the verge of erupting. Did someone in her past accuse her of not being good enough? Make fun of her and say she was doing something incorrectly? Demand that she needs to be better?

Fuck every single asshole who’s gotten to be with her before me. I hate them all.

“No, Emma, you didn’t. I need a minute because you’re going to annihilate me. I’m already destroyed, and I haven’t even touched you yet. Haven’t tasted you yet. You’ve gone years without being appreciated, honey, and we’re going to remedy that immediately. And repeatedly. Until you’re fucking sick of me.”

“I don’t think I could ever be sick of you.”

The statement shouldn’t make my chest tighten painfully again, but it does, a knife twisting into my skin. “I’m going to be the one to take care of you. Whatever you want, just ask, and I’ll gladly give it to you.”

“Whatever I want? I want you naked.” Her face has changed from hesitant to hungry, and she licks her lips as her eyes wander down my bare chest. “This isn’t fair.”

“You’re right,” I agree, grabbing the waistband of my pajama bottoms and shucking them off. They get tossed into the abyss of the room, the fucks I give about anything except her flying away with the plaid cotton. “How’s that?”

THIRTY-TWO

EMMA

The sight of Henry Dawson—a man attractive enough to rival a Greek god—naked in front of me is really absurd.

Once he ditches the one article of clothing covering his body, I’m greeted with strong, defined muscles. His chest. His biceps. Sharp lines contouring the fine edges of his body, leaving no room for imagination. Abs traverse across his tan stomach into a perfectly chiseled V, a carving done out of marble by a Renaissance sculptor, mimicking an unworldly being. A small dusting of dark hair leads down the rest of his toned shape, an arrow to a cock that’s incredibly hard, jutting to attention.

“Oh, good God,” I mutter, burying my face in my hands like a blushing idiot.