That’s all it takes.
Her rhythm snaps—she starts riding me hard, relentless, grinding down against me, chasing her own release. I match her pace, but I’m on the edge, teeth clenched, desperate to hold on.
“Don’t come until I say so,” she pants, her voice like velvet and smoke.
I have to close my eyes, force my mind anywhere else, because one more stroke and I’m done.
She leans back just enough for me to slip my hand between us, rubbing her clit. Her moans turn louder, less controlled—like she’s unraveling in real time.
“That’s it, baby girl,” I growl. “Use my cock. Make yourself come.”
Her hand shoots out and wraps around my throat, squeezing tight. My breath halts. She slams herself down with a strangled cry, and I feel it—the tremor through her body, the way her pussy clenches around me, pulsing hard.
It’s too much.
The pressure. Her hand at my throat. The wet, perfect vice of her cunt milking me.
I come hard, hips jerking, gasping against the edge of blackness as she rides it out, still holding me in the palm of her hand.
After we both come down from our post-orgasm high, I shift back into the car seat, keeping her in my lap, wrapped in my arms. Her breath is still warm against my neck, her heartbeat thudding in time with mine.
My hand traces a slow path down her spine, grounding us both.
“I don’t need to be in control when I’m with you,” I whisper, my voice low and wrecked. “I don’t need to lead. I just needyou.”
My hands are gentle on her hips, grounding myself with the feel of her.
“You could ruin me, Stella. And I’d still thank you for letting me love you.”
She doesn’t speak—just watches me with those eyes that see everything. So I keep going, because I need her to know.
“You are my beginning and my end. You’re the voice in my head, the fire in my chest, the reason I keep choosing to be better.”
I take a breath, my thumb brushing over the place where her heart beats.
“I’d follow you into darkness if that’s where you went. I’d kneel at your feet if that’s where you needed me because loving you isn’t something Ido.It’s who Iam.”
Stella
Donovan and I spent the rest of the weekend with both of our families under one roof. It was a feeling I didn’t know I was missing.
Our dads spent all of Sunday drinking beers and watching football, while our moms spent the day laughing and sipping mimosas. They meshed so well that it was as if they’d been best friends for years.
Donovan and I spent our Sunday playing with Layla. Watching him with her makes my heart flutter—one day, it’ll be our children he’s playing with.
I made a ton of finger foods for us to pick at, and just as I was setting out the last tray, my mother and Vanessa came down the stairs giggling like high school girls.
I looked up, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”
They looked at each other and laughed even harder.
“Oh, it’s nothing, Stella,” my mom said. “I was just telling Ness a story.” They stepped off the last stair and walked toward the counter.
Vanessa grabbed my face and kissed both cheeks. “Oh, you sweet, sweet girl. This food spread is precisely what I needed.” She reached for a few pot stickers and started devouring them.
Then my mom walked over to Donovan and me, handing him a box. He opened it and turned it to face me.
Inside was a hauntingly beautiful ring. A platinum band worn smooth with time, its edges carved with the faintest laurel leaves. An antique rose-cut diamond sat at the center, flanked by two small black onyx inlays nestled in delicate prongs.
