“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, pushing in slowly, filling me completely. I gasped at the sensation, my body instinctively arching to take him deeper. This was more than just physical; it was a rebirth, a reclamation of everything we had lost.
“Don’t hold back,” I urged, my voice breathy and desperate. “I need you.”
He obliged, thrusting into me with a fervor that matched the fire inside. Each movement was a declaration, a promise that we were here, fully present, and utterly consumed by each other. I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him closer as he drove deeper, filling me completely.
“Oh, Linc,” I moaned, lost in the rhythm of our bodies. I felt every ounce of our history, our love, weaving into every thrust, every gasp. I could feel the heat pooling, building to an unbearable climax, and I knew I was on the verge of breaking apart.
“Right here,” he rasped. “Right here with me. Don’t ever run again.”
“I won’t,” I gasped, clinging to him. “I’m right here, Linc. I’m yours.”
“Let go for me, Tin,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear as he quickened his pace, sending me spiraling higher. I could feel the tension coiling tighter, ready to snap.
“Linc,” I cried out, and with one final thrust, we fell over the edge. Waves of ecstasy crashed over me, leaving me breathless and tangled in his arms. I could feel him pulse inside me, theworld fading as we sank into the afterglow, our hearts racing in sync.
“Always,” he murmured, brushing my hair from my face, a soft smile curling on his lips as I clung to him, feeling whole for the first time in years.
He groaned, a sound that vibrated through my whole body, and then he did. He moved over me, inside me, filling the space between us until there was no past, no running, just heat and breath and the sound of our names breaking off our lips.
Then Lincoln kissed my hair, slow and aching. “Home,” he murmured.
I pressed my palm to his heart, eyes stinging. “Home,” I echoed, and this time I meant it.
Lincoln’s chest was damp under my cheek, his heartbeat a heavy thud against my ear. He hadn’t let go of me, not once. His arm was locked around my waist like I might disappear if he loosened it.
I turned my head enough to see him. His eyes were closed, but his jaw was tight, like even in this moment of peace, he was holding something back.
“Hey,” I whispered, brushing my fingers along his stubbled cheek. “You with me?”
He cracked one eye open, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Barely.”
“Barely?”
“You just knocked the wind out of me, sweetheart.” His voice was low, hoarse, but softer than it had been all night. He cupped my hand where it rested on his face, pressing a kiss to my palm. “I don’t know how to come down from that.”
I felt my throat tighten again, but this time it wasn’t fear. It was something heavier, warmer. “Then don’t. Just stay here on this high with me.”
His eyes held mine, steady and searching, as if he were still half afraid this was a dream. Finally, he nodded, pulling me tighter into him. “I can do that.”
For a while, we just breathed together. His thumb stroked absently along my spine, my fingers tracing idle patterns across his chest. There was no rush, no pressure. Just the quiet truth of being here, in this room, in this bed, after so long of avoiding it.
“Linc?” I murmured.
“Mm?”
“Thank you for waiting for me.” My voice cracked. “Even when I didn’t deserve it.”
His grip on me tightened, his forehead pressing against mine. “I wasn’t waiting,” he said roughly. “I was surviving. There’s a difference.”
I kissed him softly, a promise more than anything else. “Then let’s stop surviving. Let’s actually live.”
He let out a shaky laugh that sounded more like relief than humor. “With you? Yeah. I’ll take that.”
We didn’t need more words after that. I curled against him, his hand resting on my hip, and let my eyes fall closed. For the first time in years, I wasn’t running, and he wasn’t alone. The bedroom was finally ours again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LINC
