His hand slid between us again, two fingers slipping into my wet heat, pumping in and out with a rhythm that has me gasping for breath. The counter dug into my back, but I barely noticed. All I could feel was Leo—his touch, his mouth, his presence overwhelming me.
“Leo, please,” I beg, my voice shaking with need. “I need you. Now.”
He chuckles, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through me. “Impatient, aren’t we?” he teases, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean. I watch, mesmerized, my pussy clenching at the sight.
Without warning, he pushes inside me, his thick cock filling me completely, stretching me in a way that makes me cry out. My nails dig into his shoulders as he began to move, slow and deliberate, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groan, his forehead pressing against mine. “So fucking perfect.”
I meet his rhythm, my hips rolling to match his, my walls gripping him like a vice. The counter is unforgiving, but I don’t care. All I care about was this moment—Leo’s cock pounding into me, his breath hot against my skin, the world outside ceasing to exist.
My orgasm builds, a coil tightening in my stomach, and I can feel him swelling inside me, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate.
“Cum with me, Sage,” he demands, his voice raw and pleading. “Let me feel you fall apart around my dick.”
His words were my undoing. My body convulses, my pussy clenching around him as I scream his name, my orgasm tearing through me like a storm. Leo follows, his cock pulsing deep inside me, his growl of release vibrating against my skin. We stay like that, trembling, his weight presses me into the counter.
As he pulls out, I slide off, my legs shaky, my body still buzzing with aftershocks. Leo’s eyes meet mine, raw and unguarded, and for a moment, the world feels uncertain again. The tension, the unresolved feelings—they all linger in the air between us.
But then he smirks, that cocky half-grin that is so distinctly him, and pulls me into another kiss. This one is softer, slower, but no less hungry. His lips move down my jawline, trailing kisses along my neck, his hands gently smoothing my hair.
When the air finally stills, I stay pressed against him, chest rising and falling, both of us catching our breath like we’ve just come off the ice. My lips are swollen, my hands still tangled in his shirt. The silence feels different now — not sharp, not dangerous. Just quiet. Real.
Leo’s forehead rests against mine, his breath warm when he finally speaks. “That’s not how we fix it,” he murmurs. His voice is rough, but there’s a small, broken edge of a laugh underneath it.
I manage a faint smile, though my pulse still hasn’t slowed. “You sure about that?”
He huffs out a low sound that might almost be a laugh. “I’m sure.” His thumb grazes my bottom lip, slow, thoughtful. “Wecan’t keep surviving by falling apart every time someone comes for us.”
I close my eyes, his words sinking in. They’re true. The more we break, the harder it gets to put ourselves back together. “Then what?” I whisper. “Because I don’t know how to do this anymore.”
He leans back just enough to look at me — really look. His gaze is steady, unguarded. “Then we start winning together.”
The phrase lands heavy between us, solid and certain. It’s not a promise wrapped in pretty words; it’s a vow carved from everything we’ve already lost.
I breathe him in — the faint scent of soap and adrenaline, the steadiness of his heartbeat under my palm. And for the first time tonight, I feel something close to hope. Fragile, maybe, but real.
I nod, just once. “Okay.”
His hand slides to the back of my neck, gentle now, grounding. “Okay,” he echoes. For a long moment, we just stand there in the soft glow of the kitchen, the city whispering faintly outside, the noise of the world waiting on the other side of the door.
Then my phone buzzes on the counter.
The sound slices through the stillness, sharp and cold. I pull away, frowning as I reach for it. The screen lights up, the words so bold I almost can’t process them at first.
Puck Whisperer Exclusive: The Chef Speaks — Inside Source Reveals Sage Winslow’s Side of the Story.
My stomach drops. “I didn’t talk to anyone,” I whisper.
Leo’s expression hardens, his jaw tightening. “Then someone did.”
Chapter 30
Breaking the Silence
Leo
The day starts wrong.A pale gray light filters through the blinds, cool and colorless, the kind that makes everything feel slightly off before a word is even spoken. The air feels too still, the apartment too quiet, like the whole world’s holding its breath waiting for another blow. Sage’s phone won’t stop buzzing on the counter, one alert after another lighting up her screen. I don’t have to look to know it’s bad — I can hear it in the way she exhales, sharp and tight, like every new notification digs a little deeper.
