But it fades quick.
“I should’ve said something sooner,” he says, voice rough. “But I didn’t know how to love you without messing it up.”
My heart aches. But I don’t look away.
“And now?”
He pulls me closer, forehead resting against mine. “Now I’m ready to try. If you’ll let me.”
The silence that follows isn’t heavy this time.
It’s full of something quieter.
Softer.
A beginning.
Maybe.
I don’t answer right away.
I just look at him, stretched out in my bed like he belongs there. His hands still cradle my face, his body warm, solid, andminein a way I’ve never let myself believe he could be.
“I’ll stay,” I whisper, breath catching in my throat.
He stills, like the words knocked the air right out of him. “You mean it?”
I nod. “I was only going to Vegas because I thought you didn’t want me. Because I didn’t want tofeelanymore.”
His hands tighten on my waist. “You’re all I fucking feel.”
The second he kisses me, it’s different.
No hesitation. No fear. Justneed.
It’s raw and hot and full of something reckless, like the words we’ve finally spoken have unleashed everything we’ve been holding back. His hands slide over my body like he’s starved for it, like he needs to touch every inch of me to prove I’m real.
He rolls me beneath him, and his voice is low, right at my ear. “You staying means I don’t have to hold back anymore.”
I moan as his mouth drags down my neck, his hips pressing between mine.
“I’m gonna fuck you right,” he growls. “Real slow at first… so you feel every inch. Then hard enough you’ll forget you ever thought about leaving.”
I gasp as he pushes inside, deeper than before, his body claiming mine with smooth, deliberate thrusts that make my thighs shake.
He’s already close to losing control, I can feel it.
Then he grits out, “You know what I want, don’t you?”
My breath catches. “What?”
His thrusts get rougher, rhythm sharper. “I want to fill you up, sugar. Fuck you so deep and slow you’re dripping with me.”
“Will—” I moan, clawing at his back.
“You’d look so good round with my baby,” he pants, eyes locked on mine. “Bet you’d glow, all knocked up and aching, still begging for me every damn night.”
The thought rips through me, filthy and wild and irresistible.
