The pace builds. His control frays. His thrusts come faster, rougher, and I match him, my hips rising to meet each one. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mingling with my moans and his low groans.
"Touch yourself," he orders. "I want to feel you come on my cock."
My hand slides between us, fingers finding my clit, and the combination of his thickness inside me and the pressure on that swollen bundle of nerves sends me hurtling toward the edge.
"That's it." His voice is wrecked. "God, you're so fucking beautiful like this. Come for me, Gemma. Let me feel it."
I shatter. My whole body clamps down on him, waves of pleasure crashing through me, and I hear myself crying out his name. He groans, deep and guttural, and his rhythm stutters. Two more thrusts, three, and then he buries himself to the hilt and follows me over, pulsing inside me, my name a ragged prayer on his lips.
Neither of us moves. He's still inside me, softening now, and I don't want to let him go. Eventually he shifts, pulling me against his chest.
"How do you feel?" he asks, his voice soft.
"Safe." The word comes out without thought. "I feel safe."
His arms tighten around me. "Good. That's what I wanted."
I nestle closer, pressing my face against his chest, breathing in the smell of him—clean sweat and soap and something underneath that's purely Will. The hollow emptiness I used to feel after Craig isn't there. Instead there's warmth, contentment, a sense of rightness I've never experienced.
"Is this what it's supposed to feel like?" I ask. "Afterward?"
"What does it feel like?"
"Full. Calm. Like I could fall asleep right here and not be afraid of anything."
He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "That's afterglow. And yeah, that's what it's supposed to feel like." He's quiet for a moment. "You know this wasn't—we didn't do a scene tonight. You surrendered, and that was beautiful, but it wasn't submission. Not the way I'd structure it."
"What's the difference?"
"Intent. Negotiation. A scene has boundaries laid out beforehand, a beginning and an end. What we did tonight was just us. No roles, no protocols. Just two people who wanted each other."
I let that sink in. "So the real thing would be... more?"
"Different." His hand strokes down my spine. "More intense in some ways. More structured. We'd talk about it first—what you want, what you're curious about, what's off the table. And afterward, I'd take care of you. Deliberately. Not just because it feels right, but because you'd need it."
"I'd like that," I say. "When I'm ready."
"Whenever you're ready. No rush."
We lie in silence for a while, the moonlight shifting across the walls as the night deepens. My eyelids grow heavy, and for once I don't fight it. For once, sleep feels like something to welcome rather than dread.
"Stay," Will murmurs against my hair. "Stay the night."
"I wasn't planning on leaving."
His chest vibrates with a low laugh. "Good. Because I wasn't planning on letting you."
I smile against his skin, and the last knot in my chest finally loosens.
11
WILL
Iforgot what it feels like to wake up next to someone. I forgot how terrifying it is to have something worth losing again.
The morning light creeps through the blinds in pale strips, falling across Gemma's bare shoulder, her tousled hair, the curve of her spine beneath my sheets. She's still asleep, breathing slow and even, her face soft in a way I've never seen when she's awake. No tension in her jaw. No wariness behind her eyes. Just peace.
I could watch her for hours. The thought should alarm me, but it doesn't. What alarms me is everything underneath it. The possessiveness coiling in my chest. The way my hand itches to reach out and touch her, just to confirm she's real. God help anyone who tries to take her from me.
