Up.
Over her.
Body to body. Heat to heat. His skin slick against hers. His mouth found hers in a kiss that said I’m not finished.
Because he wasn’t.
And neither was she.
His mouth crushed hers, no preamble, no apology. His tongue slid deeper, claiming her, tasting her like he needed to memorize the sound she made when he did. His hips surged forward—grinding against her center with dizzying pressure that made her legs fall open—shameless, greedy for every inch of him.
She moaned into his mouth, and her fingers clawed at his back. She pulled him closer until there was nothing left between them. His body was hard and hot—pressed between her thighs, and she felt it—all of him. Thick, solid, already slick from how wet she was. She arched up seeking friction, and the low, broken sound he made against her throat undid her.
“Fuck, Arden…” The way he said her name as guttural and reverent, like a curse and a prayer. His words made her head swim. His hand slid between them, fingers spreading her open like a secret he couldn’t wait to explore.
“So wet for me.” One thick finger slid inside her, then another, curling deep until her body clenched around him. “Look at you.”
Her thighs trembled. “Gideon…”
“I’ve got you.” His voice was rough, steady, hungry. “I’ve got every single part of you.”
Arden gripped the nape of his neck and dragged his mouth back to hers. She tasted the edge of his restraint like it was the last thread holding him together. And then he was moving. He pulled his fingers free and moved the tip of his cock through her slick heat, teasing her entrance. His hips shook from the effortto hold back.
“Please,” she whispered. Not just want. Need. She couldn’t take the stretch of tension anymore. “I need you inside me.”
That was all it took.
He thrust forward in one slow, overwhelming stroke, filling her to the hilt. Her body arched like she’d been struck by lightning, the thick, delicious pressure sending her straight into a gasp that fractured midair. He didn’t move at first—just stayed buried inside her, chest rising in sharp bursts, his forehead pressed to hers as he tried to breathe through the wreckage.
“You fit me,” he ground out. “So… fucking well. So perfect. Like you were made for me.”
Then he started to move.
Long, deep thrusts that sent shockwaves through her core. His hips snapped with rhythm and need, hitting every spot that made her cry out. She clung to him, legs wrapped tight around his waist. Her nails scratched down his back as he fucked her, owned her, with every powerful roll of his body.
She wasn’t passive—not soft or delicate. She fought for each stroke, meeting him with fierce, hungry thrusts of her own. “Harder,” she gasped. “I can take it.”
His growl shook through his chest. “You’ll get everything.”
And she did.
He slammed into her with a rhythm that bordered on savage. One hand gripped her thigh. The other tangled in her hair. He drove her closer and closer to the edge, and her body sang for him. Heat building. Pressure coiling.
Her climax hovered just out of reach, coiling tight, threatening to shatter her sanity.
Then his hand slipped between them again, his thumb finding her clit, circling in time with each thrust, fast and unrelenting.
“Gideon—” Her voice broke. She was going to come… hard. The pressure in her belly snapped like a rubber band, and the orgasm ripped through her like fire and light.
She cried out his name, then her body locked around him, pulsing in waves, as the pleasure took her apart from the inside out. He followed with a guttural sound torn from the depths of him, spilling deep inside her with a final, shuddering thrust.
His release hit like a fucking earthquake, full-body tremors and fists clenched in the sheets beside her head. His forehead dropped to her shoulder as he groaned through the wreckage. He kept grinding into her and riding the aftershocks, refusing to let the connection slip.
They stayed tangled like that—hot, slick, and breathless. His cock inside her. Her body still fluttering around him. Sweat on their skin. Her thighs sticky. Their hearts hammering in perfect sync.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes locked on hers—dark, blown, still reeling. His voice cracked, raw and wrecked, like he hadn’t quite survived her. “You ruin me.”
She touched his face, brushing the hair from his temple. “Good.”
