And I hold on.
Because something in me whispers that if I let go now, I may never find my way back.
15
TESSA
Wind rattles the windowpanes like icy claws, matching the wild rhythm of my own pulse. Beside me, Darius sleeps fitfully, his brow furrowed even in repose. The storm howls its fury against the house, a sound like the world tearing itself apart. But inside, a different kind of storm builds—hot, insistent, coiled deep in my belly. Weeks of stolen glances, the agonizing control in his touch, the raw vulnerability he shared last night… it all ignites now.
I don’t hesitate. I slide my hand across the cool sheet, finding the hard plane of his stomach, then lower. My fingers trace the ridge beneath the waistband of his soft sleep pants. He tenses immediately, a low noise catching in his throat.
"Tessa."His voice is rough with sleep and warning.
"Shhh." I press closer, nuzzling the tense line of his jaw. "Let me." My hand slips inside, finds his hard heat. He’s already achingly aroused. My fingers wrap around him, a tight, possessive slide. He groans, a raw, helpless sound that makes my own breath hitch. His hand closes over mine—not to stop me, but to guide the pressure. "Please, Darius." My whisper is lost in the wind’s shriek against the glass. "No more walls tonight."
His restraint shatters. In one fluid, predatory motion, he rolls me onto my back. The quilt ripples to the floor. His mouth crashes onto mine, demanding, possessive. It’s not gentle. It’s claiming.
His hands tear at my clothes – the worn sleep shirt, the cotton shorts – leaving bare skin exposed to the chilly air and the heat of his body. I help him, wrenching at his clothes, desperate, nails scraping his flank. He pushes my thighs apart, a growl vibrating against my neck. I’m soaked, aching, breathing his name like a mantra.
The head of his cock presses against my entrance, slick and urgent. There’s no slow slide. He drives deep in one relentless, powerful thrust.
"Fuck."The word rips from both of us, tangled in the maelstrom.
He fills me completely, that first fierce plunge stealing thought, leaving only sensation. He doesn’t pause. Hemoves. Deep, punishing strokes that have me arching off the mattress. He grips my hips, fingers digging in, anchoring us both as he pistons into me. It’s desperate, untamed, a mirror of the storm tearing at the world outside. His rhythm is pure possession. Deep. Hard. Unrelenting. Each retreat makes me whine, each thrust punches a sob of pure, shattering pleasure from my core.
I wrap my legs around his waist, locking us together, meeting him thrust for thrust. My blunt nails claw furrows down his back as the pressure builds coil-tight inside me. He shifts angles, grinding impossibly deep on every downward stroke, hitting a place that explodes light behind my eyelids.
"More," I gasp, barely audible over our ragged breathing and the wind. "Deeper." I buck against him, frantic.
He obliges. Hooks his elbows under my knees and pushes them wide, folding me nearly double, opening me impossiblyfurther. The angle is brutal, exquisite. His cock drives into that flooding heat without mercy.
The sounds are primal – skin slapping slick skin, broken moans, the choked curses torn from his throat. I feel his restraint fraying, his movements becoming wilder, spurred by my gasps, my pleas. His focus is absolute, animal, locked onto our connection, the ferocious joining. I’m trembling on the edge, every nerve screaming, pleasure coiling so tight it burns.
He shifts again. Leans down, teeth scraping my collarbone, his thrusts ramming harder, impossibly deep. The pressure snaps.
My climax detonates – a brutal, blinding surge that locks my body rigid against him, a scream tearing loose, silent against his shoulder.
The punishing rhythm slows for a breath—just long enough for his hands to tighten on my thighs.
"On your knees." The command rings husky against my neck, a sweet friction that stokes the fire inside me. He pulls out, a retreat leaving me gasping, empty and aching. The mattress dips as I scramble to obey, pressed onto all fours, the cold silk cool beneath my knees.
Darius’s heat crowds my back instantly, a heavy curtain of muscle and scent. One arm wraps tight around my waist, pulling my ass flush against him. The thick head of his cock nudges my slick entrance, demanding.
I push back without thought, an instinct deeper than words. "Now." My voice comes out raw, thick with need.
He drives into me in one long, burning stroke. Full. Deeper than before. A sharp cry tears from my throat, swallowed by his groan vibrating against my spine. His grip locks on my hips, fingers biting into my flesh as he takes his first slick plunge. Then he moves—no refinement, pure possession. Deep, bruising thrusts that hammer into my core with possessive force.
"Fuck," his grunt scrapes against my shoulder blade, teeth grazing the skin. "Tight." Each word drilled out with the pulse of his cock deep inside.
He growls, low and approving, the vibration mingling with the slick smack of skin on skin. His free hand snakes beneath me, rough fingers finding my clit. A direct arc of pleasure bolts to my already shattered senses. I buck against him, impaling myself further.
"Harder," I gasp, arching back, giving him everything.
He snarls, bending over me, covering me. His thrusts turn brutal. Every drive hits that glorious place, stealing breath, clarity. My arms wobble. He senses it, wraps his solid arm tighter around my waist, holding me up as he pounds into my pussy. Sensations fracture—the slick fullness, the rough sweetness of his fingers circling my clit, the hot cage of his body.
"Don't stop," I pant, voice wild. "Not now... oh god..." Pleasure coils fire-tight, unbearable.
He slams in, hips grinding against my ass, buried to the root. "Come with me." A plea growled against my spine, rough and ragged.
