As the Dawn Breaks (16 page)

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Authors: Erin Noelle

BOOK: As the Dawn Breaks
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Looping my arm around Sarah’s shoulder, I smile down at her and nod. “Look around, Sar, I’m already a rich man. With family and friends like this, surrounded by love, what else could I ever ask for?”

“Rich, handsome,
and
smart—three very desirable qualities in a man, Leo,” she teases playfully.

“I just never would’ve thought
this
is where I’d end up, but now that I’m here, there’s nowhere else I ever want to be.”

“You and Trystan couldn’t be more perfect for each other. When I see you two look at each other, it reminds me of the way Christian and I do.” She pats my side in a motherly way. “Oh, and that little girl…she’s got you so wrapped around her little finger it’s not even funny.”

I focus back in on Aurora, who’s now sitting in her mommy’s lap, attempting to eat an ice cream cone before it melts all over both of them, and an internal glow fills me. “They’re both the reason I wake up every morning, my living proof we all deserve a new dawn.”

*IDS@DPGroup*

I’d like to thank the following people, as each of them played a vital role in the completion of this novella:

MJ, Trina, and Kirsten ~ Every minute of every day, you three are there for me in so many ways. I couldn’t do it without you

Toski ~ Not only for your amazing photos, but being a never-ending support system and great friend

Steph ~For always believing in me, for stopping whatever you’re doing to read, edit, talk, and anything else I need

Kassi ~ For everything, everyday; there is only one you

Kayla ~ This goes way past editing; I’m so appreciative of your support and friendship

Michelle ~ Jerry’s Mom, my beta to the end, and the momma to my Mase’s tattoo babies

Vanessa ~ You, lady, are irreplaceable. Thank you for everything you do and your amazingly creative ideas

Cyndi ~ You never let me down and I hope to do the same for you

Street Team ~ You ladies are the reason I’m able to do this. There is no possible way I could thank you all enough

My husband and girls ~ For allowing me to do this and loving/ supporting me morning and night. I love you three more than anything else in the world.

*DPGROUP.ORG*

Erin Noelle
is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels. In 2013, she published the Book Boyfriend Series, which included books
Metamorphosis, Ambrosia, Euphoria, and Timeless
, and thus far in 2014, has published
When the Sun Goes Down
, a contemporary romance novel, and Transparent, a romantic suspense novel. Her books have been a part of the
USA Today
Bestselling list and the Amazon and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.

You can follow her on:

Facebook @
www.facebook.com/erin.noelle.98
,

hHer blog @
www.erinnoelleauthor.com
, and

On Twitter @authorenoelle.

PROLOGUE

“MORE,” SHE BEGS, HER COLOSSAL
brown eyes dilated in ecstasy and pleading with mine.

She’s always mesmerizing, but spread before me, bronze-skinned body thrashing amongst the rumpled white sheets in restless desire, she seems celestial, an apparition of unearthly measure.

“You don’t need more,” I provoke her with a cocky grin. Looming over her on my knees, sliding only one finger in and out of her silken warmth in deliberate leisure, I wait for her to surrender—come to me—passion uncontrollable.

And come she will.

Already impossibly wet, she now flows splendidly, her body thriving on my torment despite her stubborn battle. Pulse quickening in her strained neck, ample, natural breasts bouncing with each deep, desperate breath she takes, I bite back my smirk…
almost there
.


Bryce.”
Her rasp of what
she believes
is my name boosts my rapid heartbeat, but what I wouldn’t give for her to moan out…

No, not yet. She knows me as Bryce, and what she craves
is
me—
my
body, mouth, tongue, and cock…
my
mind, humor, conversation, and soul. Everything of importance, she has or wants of
me
, true and genuine. All I’m able to give her, I have, and it’s been sincere. One small detail won’t break
us
in the end.

I keep telling myself that, determined to believe it.

I can’t expect of her faith I don’t return.

“What is it, J? You need more?” I push a second finger into her slick sweetness and close my eyes, letting her sweet sounds fill my senses.

“Bry, don’t…you, ugh,” she blathers in exasperation, grinding down harder on my fingers. I don’t stifle my chuckle fast enough, earning myself a flippant scowl, but it couldn’t be helped. When she gets frustrated and starts speaking in gibberish, it’s sexy as hell. It’s
so
irresistible, in fact, I antagonize her even further.

“My brilliant girl, reduced to one syllable at a time?” I challenge, brow arched. “Where’s boss lady, huh? She’d have already
shown
me what she wants, what she
needs
.”

Oh, hell yes!
I forced her to the brink; now we’re talking and here she comes...up on her knees in a flash, the savage intensity of a huntress glowing in her eyes. “She’s right the fuck here,” she hisses against my mouth as she commands it with her own, a debilitating sequence of nips, licks, and sucks as she takes both sides of my shirt and rips it apart, buttons flying across the room, followed immediately by my belt being unbuckled and ripped through the pant loops for me.

I love
this
Jocelyn—confident as she is curvaceous, witty as she is wanton—a lioness. Devouring every inch of my chest with a hot, rigid tongue, she mumbles another command, which again, I can’t quite decipher. The part I
did
catch was ‘pants,’ so I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess the rest was something along the lines of ‘off.’

“English, babe.” I taste my request upon the most succulent lips in existence, clinging to contact as I maneuver out of my pants and boxer briefs as directed.

Now naked as she, I’m pushed onto my back as her beautiful body coyly shifts over me, knees creeping up the outskirts of my hips. “You understand me perfectly,” a provocative quirk twists at the corner of her mouth, “don’t you?”

I nod—universal language—and her expression darkens, every forbidden intention and wish amply clear.

“Then what’re you waiting for?” she tempts.

“You.” Her head tilts and eyes squint in an adorable mix of curiosity and confusion at my response. “Been waiting my whole life…
for you,
and here you are, bare and ripe for my taking, oblivious to all the power you hold.”

She’s yet to fully comprehend exactly how much she means to me, and the lengths to which I’d go for her.

Everything.

Anywhere.

I crook my finger, beckoning her closer, and she lowers, laying every inch of her exposed, fevered flesh on mine. Her breasts slide against my chest, a slippery sheen of sweat glistening on us both, my hard length between us. It’s like I finally found the spot for that
last
piece of the puzzle. Not an easy one, a corner—no, that
one damn piece
you put back to the side every time you pick it up, waiting until all else falls into place, the hole left at the end telling you where it belongs by default.

Jocelyn defies that strategy. She is my ‘what’s always been missing.’ Everything else gets built
around her
.

“I see
you
, Jocelyn

hear
you
, feel
you
. My girl wants some control,” I lean up and kiss her chastely, “now take it.” The intense consideration in her mocha eyes confirms she
hears
me too. I’m talking about so much more than this moment and she knows it.

Here and now hers to control, she rises only to descend, excruciatingly slow, taking all of me inside her. A tender, endless gasp escapes her, in tune with my own vehement groan. “Fucking perfect.” My voice catches as she internally tortures me, clenching around my girth with no mercy, releasing those tense muscles a moment then squeezing around my dick again, repetitively, blowing my mind and stealing all but my last shred of stamina.

This is right where I belong, the lapse in time and space where the world ceases to be and only she and I remain. She rides me, head thrown back, long, caramel curls brushing along my thighs, where her hands grip tight. I watch her graceful movements, my fingers forging deeper into the grooves of her hips. She thrives on top of me like a wave in the ocean, rocking forward with greedy force and building to her crest, then sighs as she denies herself, rolling her pelvis back just as a swell fades to a ripple. And right when I come up for air, catching my breath, along comes another wave of her body, over and again, prolonging the glorious denial. Sweet torment.

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