He pulled back slightly, meeting my gaze. His eyes were steady, filled with concern, desire, and something deeper—something real.
“I’m here,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine, his voice soft and steady. “I’ve got you, Mylo. Always.”
Something in me relaxed at that—like it was what I’d been waiting to hear.
And for the first time in a long time, I believed it.
I believed someone wanted me. That someone would stay.
Maybe I was a little drunk on the feeling, but I didn’t care. I leaned in, cupping his face, and kissed him—pouring every bit of what I felt into that kiss.
He made me feel safe, wanted, cared for. And I wanted him to know how much that meant.
I arched my back with a moan, my fingers sinking into Holden’s shoulders, gripping like my life depended on it. Every time our hips slid together, that sweet friction set me on fire, sending waves of heat rippling through my body until I could barely breathe. My skin felt tight, every nerve alive and thrumming with want, as if I might shatter from the force of it.
Holden’s hands dug into my hips, rough and possessive, his breath hot against my neck as he moved deeper, faster, with a rhythm that made me see stars.
Each thrust hit that spot inside me—the one that narrowed the world down to just him, just us. Sweat slicked between our bodies, skin gliding against skin, hot and desperate. The sound of it—the slap of our hips, the heavy breaths, the groans—filled the space around us, thick and electric, like even the air was in on it.
“Fuck,” I gasped, my head falling back as he bottomed out, pleasure coursing through me in waves that left me clinging to him like a lifeline. I couldn’t think—didn’t want to think. I just needed to feel him everywhere, all at once, as if maybe that would be enough to hold me together.
His scent, the taste of salt on his skin where my mouth found him, left me dizzy. My lips moved along his shoulder, across the curve of his neck, not so much kissing as clinging—anchoring myself to him, needing more, always more. And God, the way he filled me, like he belonged there, like this was the only thing that had ever made sense.
I wrapped my legs tighter around him, the desk biting into my back, but I didn’t care. I welcomed it, needed the bite of discomfort to keep me grounded. My nails scraped down his back, leaving thin lines behind, desperate to mark this moment, to make it real.
The heat between us built, like it was too big, too wild to contain. My breath hitched, turning into broken sounds I couldn’t hold back. Every thrust pushed me closer to the edge, my body bowing beneath him, chasing that high like I might never come down.
His hand shifted, gripping my hip tighter, like he couldn’t get close enough. And I felt it then—the way my body opened up to him, not just physically but deeper, in ways that scared me, made me feel raw and exposed. But I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. He had me, and that was all there was.
The pace turned frantic, our movements losing rhythm but gaining urgency, like we were running out of time. My moans grew louder, sharp and breathless, bouncing off the walls, filling the room until there was nothing left but us—our bodies moving, crashing together, over and over.
I was so close it hurt, every muscle tensed, every nerve stretched thin. My fingers clutched at him, desperate, as if holding tighter might stop everything from slipping away. He thrust deeper, hitting that spot again, and a white-hot burst of pleasure ripped through me, leaving me trembling beneath him.
“Please,” I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for—just that I needed it, needed him, needed this moment to never end.
The pressure built, a tidal wave rising higher and higher, and I teetered on the edge, every nerve alive, every part of me locked into this moment. His body pressed down into mine, sweat-slick and solid, his breath warm against my neck. I arched into him, gasping, surrendering completely.
And when I fell, I fell hard—every part of me unraveling, shaking apart beneath him. The world blurred, pleasure crashing over me in waves that left me weightless and lost, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to the ground.
And maybe he was.
He kept thrusting until he came deep inside me.
I feltcherished. That was the only word I could think of to describe it. Cherished and loved, like I finally belonged somewhere. Like I had a home. And as Holden kissed me, his touch gentle, I knew I’d never felt anything like this before.
He pulled back, resting his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard as the moment stretched between us. Then he smiled—a real smile—that made my chest feel like it might burst.He brushed his thumb over my cheek, his gaze soft, searching mine.
“You’re everything,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
I felt my heart catch at the raw sincerity in his voice. My breath hitched, and I nodded, my hands tightening around his shoulders.
“So are you,” I whispered back, my voice trembling slightly. And in that moment, I knew it was true. No matter what happened next, Holden was everything. And I hoped I was his too.
He pulled away just enough to catch his breath, his forehead still resting against mine.
“Mylo… I have to leave for a couple of weeks. Work.”
I blinked, trying to make sense of his words through the haze of heat and satisfaction. “What? When?”
