17
Justin stilled. He had never gone without protection. Never. A rule carved in stone through years of abundant caution.
But bare with Suzette?
The thought hit him like a punch to the chest.
Yes. God, yes.
He wanted that — wanted her — in every possible way.
He tossed the foil packets aside and crawled onto the bed, moving over her with a slow, deliberate intent that stole the air from her lungs.
His mouth found her skin, tracing a wandering path — shoulder, collarbone, the soft dip beneath her ear — mapping her like he’d been waiting his whole life to learn her by heart. Every place he lingered drew a small, trembling response from her, each one tightening the coil of desire pulling him under.
The urge to take, to claim, to make her his in every possible way, throbbed through him with near-painful clarity. But he held himself back, choosing instead to savor the way she arched toward him, the way trust softened her eyes, the way letting him close seemed to cost her something — and gift him everything.
Tonight wasn’t about possession.
It was about belonging.
His lips finally found hers, and he kissed her — slow and deep and overflowing with every feeling he hadn’t known until her.
And everything faded to just her.
To the warmth of her mouth, the soft catch of her breath, the way her fingers slid up his back as if she were anchoring herself to him.
He lifted his hand to cradle her cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “You undo me,” he murmured, voice rough. Pressing his forehead to hers, he breathed her in, letting the emotion crash through him without shield or restraint.
Her hands came up to frame his jaw, gentle but sure, guiding him just enough that he lifted his head to meet her gaze. And what he saw there — raw tenderness, fear, longing, and something achingly familiar — hit him with the force of truth.
He leaned in, brushing the faintest kiss to her lips, soft and reverent, more breath than contact — a promise rather than a question.
“I love you,” he whispered into her mouth.
She went completely still. Time seemed to stall, then her eyes shimmered, catching the low light. A tear slipped free, tracking down her temple, disappearing in her hair.
Before he could say her name, she surged up and kissed him with ferocity and fervor, stealing the very breath right from his lungs. It was a kiss that answered him without a single word.
A kiss that told him she felt exactly what he did.
A kiss that saidI love you too, even if she couldn’t speak it yet.
She clutched his back, her body moving restlessly beneath his, her leg hitching up his side.
And the weighty control holding him back snapped and he shifted, lined himself up and pushed in.
All the way in.
Feeling her — skin to skin, every barrier stripped away, emotional and physical — hit him with a force that stole his breath. It overwhelmed him in the best, most terrifying way, and he had to clamp down hard on his instincts, holding himself in check, half-suspended above her as if one wrong move might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.
He searched her face, every flicker of emotion, needing to be absolutely certain. “You okay?” he managed, his voice rough with restraint and reverence.
She lifted a hand and cupped his cheek, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth in a touch so gentle it nearly undid him. “I’m okay,” she whispered, breath warm against his lips. “More than okay.”
The small, tremulous smile that followed wasn’t just reassurance — it was trust. Surrender. A quiet, precious yes.
Yes to him.
